Blood of Avalon
by ellennar
Summary: AU for DMC, AWE, & ST Cannon for CotBP - A tale in which Will's search for the father he never knew brings Jack face to face with his own past.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: They're not mine.  I'm just borrowing and promise to return them in time for the sequel J 

Personal note:  My apologies to anyone who was expecting an update for Q Me?.  My brother forced me to watch POTC for the first time while I was working on Q Me and the Mallory gent showed up and will NOT leave me alone.  I have **NOT** forgotten Q Me and will try to keep both stories rolling.  Both stories are completely unbeta read – any errors are completely my own.  All reviews are greatly appreciated.

Historical note:  The real Capt. Morgan died in Port Royal in 1689 not Tortuga in 1683 as in this chapter.  I will try to note when I play fast and loose with history.  But given that the movie itself reverses Port Royal and Tortuga  (Port Royal was actually established because the pirates had been thrown _out_ of Tortuga.  Port Royal for over a decade was widely known as the 'wickedest city on earth'.)  I'm not sure that there's much of a point to strict historical accuracy. Also while Cortes retreat from Mexico is accurate I never managed to find out what happened to the real treasure. So without further ado, allow me to present…

Blood of Avalon 

**Chapter 1: Sparrow's Folly**

"Damn it, Will.  I **_told_** you not to do anything **_stupid!_**"  Jack's voice sounded impossibly far away even though I could feel his hand on my shoulder. 

"Oh, God please no" a voice I didn't recognize whispered "not now."

I tried to open my eyes but the lids felt like they'd been weighted.  I drew a breath to speak but it bubbled into a cough.  It was then that the pain hit.  The whole world was on fire. 

"Shallow breaths, whelp.  It'll hurt less."  Jack offered.  "You'll be fine." 

I wanted to call him a liar.  I'm not a fool Jack – I can see the truth in your eyes.  I'm dying.  Another face appeared beside Jack's.  It's almost like looking into a mirror.  Lighter hair touched with grey and more lines but it's my face.  I open my mouth to speak but all I get is the coppery taste of blood and more pain.  It isn't fair.  This is wrong.  I'm supposed to meet my father for the first time today not bleed to death on a Jamaican beach.  I can't be dying.  I can't leave Elizabeth.  I gasp with the pain caught between the fire in my belly and the ice everywhere else.  Gut shot, I'm gut shot.  My father smoothes the hair back off of my face.  He has rough hands.

"Don't try to talk, son.  Call Mallory" he ordered Jack.

"I haven't seen Mallory in over ten years, Bill" Jack shot back.

My father wrapped his hands around Jack's lapels and drug him up so that they were standing over me. 

"Don't tell me you can't find him.  I was there when he promised to return any time you called him."

Jack opened his mouth to speak but my father shook him like a rag doll "Don't you let your damn stubborn pride kill my son, Sparrow."

Jack shook his head "I don't keep him in me back pocket Bill."  He glanced down at me and quickly away before looking at my father.  "Bill.."

This time my father ripped Jack's jacket and shirt open.  Elizabeth once mentioned Jack's scars – I don't think she saw them all – no man could survive those injuries.

"I saw him save you Sparrow – three bullets to the chest, two in the belly, and a half dozen sword thrusts.  You were a dead man Jack and you wouldn't even have scars if you hadn't lambasted him with a book while he was trying to save your life."

I had to smile at that even through the pain.  I could see Jack doing it.

"He left me" Jack protested.

"Because you put that bloody pistol of Barbossa's to your temple and threatened to blow your brains all over him if he didn't.  At least give the boy a chance Jack."

Captain Jack Sparrow flushed all the way to his bandana and dropped down beside me.  He pulled a whistle from somewhere and blew.  I didn't hear a thing.  Great a whistle that doesn't blow to match a compass that doesn't point north.  Speaking of which Jack pulled it out of his pocket and was taking a quick heading.

He grabbed my face "Stay here and don't do anything else stupid - like dying.  I don't know if even old Mallory can raise the dead."  He smiled at me "Or maybe he can I never thought to ask."

He held the compass out to my father "Get Gibbs and get him on the Pearl.  I'll head overland, get the whelp's bonnie lass, and meet you in the cove."

My father pushed the compass back "You take the boy. They know you in Port Royal."

"You don't know the town or the lass" Jack shot back. "No time to argue, mate."

"Damn you Jack.  Mallory will kill us all if you aren't safe and sound when he arrives.  I'm sorry son."

The darkness claimed me when he and Gibbs tried to roll me onto an improvised stretcher.

                "Shush, Will I'm watching over you."

"Elizabeth?"

"You're awake."

"Here whelp, this'll take the edge off it."  I turned my head away.  Jack looked crestfallen "I think I'm insulted, mate.  I don't share me rum with just anyone."  He continued with more seriousness then I ever would have thought him capable of "I've been where ye are whelp.  Drink the rum."

"Please, Will." Elizabeth had taken the cup from Jack.  I tried to lean forward to take a sip.  I managed not to scream in front of Elizabeth.  I panted weakly staring at the Pearl's signature black sails above me.  This time it was my father's worried eyes I met.

"Just hold on Will" he commanded as Elizabeth gave me small sips of rum.

"Why do keep consulting that thing?" she snapped "We don't want to go to the Isla de Muerta."

Jack smiled "But the compass doesn't point to Isla de Muerta, luv.  It points to where I want to go."  He flipped it shut "and today I want to find Mallory quick as quick can be."

"Sounds like witchcraft" Governor Swann offered from somewhere to my left "The law is quite strict regarding…"

Jack looked as annoyed as I've ever seen him when he cut in "Don't much care, mate."

I finally spotted the Governor out of the corner of my eye as he blanched under Jack's none too jovial gaze.

I started to speak but Jack shushed me. 

He forced a smile, sprawled across from me, and flung his hands wide "Ah, a captive audience, me favorite kind.  Now, I'm sure you're all waiting with baited breath for old Jack to tell you a bit about this Mallory gent.  Well, except for Bill who already knows him from when he was captain of the Pearl.  Of course even Bill doesn't know how I met Mallory and I suppose I might as well begin at the beginning."  I couldn't help smiling a little through the pain.  Jack can be so entertaining which was undoubtedly the point.  I was grateful for the thought but this wasn't something a story and a little rum was going to put a dent in.  Maybe he could at least distract Elizabeth.

"I was just a wee slip of a lad picking pockets in Tortuga.  Not having a mum I'm not sure how old I was – I'll hazard seven but mind you it's an educated guess…

Flashback

_He ducked and dodged, twisting through spaces too small for his pursuers as he reveled in the triumph of having stolen Captain Morgan himself's purse.  Of course doing it under the eyes of a half-dozen of his men hadn't been the wisest course but it was the thrill of the danger as much as the coins in the heavy purse that drove him.  He whipped around a corner – right into a dead end.  He whirled but four of his pursuers were already between him and the only way out.  Just then Morgan himself appeared._

_"There are moments, boy, when I admire pluck and daring but your timing's off lad.  Teach him a lesson men."_

_"What kind of lesson?" one of the pirates leered "he's a right comely little mite."_

_He swallowed suddenly realizing that he'd earned himself something far worse than just a beating._

_"Let him be."  Another voice commanded from beyond the pirates.  He craned his neck in hopes both of spotting his benefactor and finding a way to slip past the seven men now clustered at the end of the alley.  The pirates had turned and fanned out.  He cursed quietly, even though the other man now had their attention there was still no way out of the alley past them._

_"Do you have any idea who I am, scalawag?" Morgan bellowed._

_"Don't know, don't care" the lean man replied unruffled._

_"I am Sir Henry Morgan and unless the boy is yours I suggest you attend to your own affairs."_

_The man was clearly unimpressed either with Morgan's name or the collection of cutlasses and pistols pointed in his direction._

_"I seem to be without any affairs of my own at the moment, so I've decided to mind the boy's."_

_"You're mad" Morgan barked._

_"Perhaps, but you still will do the boy no harm while I breath, Sir Henry Morgan."_

_The boy shifted waiting eagerly for the right moment to slither past._

_"Who are ye?  Ye dress like a scalawag but ye speak like a lord."_

_The man bared his teeth, hands still empty at his sides "I'm not as free with my name as you are Henry but if you don't stand aside ye'll call me Death."_

_"No man speaks to me that way and lives, no matter how blue his blood."_

_The pirates laughed when their opponent pulled nothing more deadly than a long, slender knife.  The pirate that had called him comely made the first move and the fight was on.  He watched avidly not caring one whit about who lived or died – just waiting for the opening he needed.  There!  He bolted sliding past the fighting men and kept running for all he was worth.  It wasn't until he reached the relative safety at the edge of the market that he turned back in time to see the lean man let the last pirate slip to the ground.  The man turned and his eyes met the stranger's brilliant green ones before ducking into the crowd…_

"You expect me to believe" Elizabeth began in the same tone I'd used with Gibbs when he'd spouted that hogwash story about sea turtles "that the mysterious death of Sir Henry Morgan was precipitated by **_you_** stealing his purse and that a lone assailant armed only with a knife was his killer and not the twenty men in the pay of the Spanish crown that was reported?"

Jack smiled "Can't help what you've read, luv.  Would I lie to you?"

"You lie, Jack, even when you tell the truth" she turned to my father who spread his hands.

"I was still in London when Morgan died but I'll say this I've seen what Mallory can do with that long white knife of his.  If you asked me to put me money down on a fight between Mallory and six men with cutlasses I'd bet on Mallory."

Elizabeth studied my father "You're afraid of him."

"He's not one to cross, Ma'am."

Jack rolled his eyes "You're interrupting me story.  It was with Morgan that I first laid eyes on Mallory but do to the circumstances we didn't have time for proper introductions…

Flashback

_He paused, winded, and glanced back.  There was no sign of his green-eyed shadow.  The man had proved doggedly hard to shake.  He'd tried every trick he knew and yet he was always there.  Closer to catching up every time.  In desperation he ducked into one of the town's many bawdy houses and quickly scurried up onto a balcony trying to spot the man hunting him without being spotted himself._

_"Well, well, well if it isn't little Jackie boy"_

_He swallowed and turned to face this new threat._

_"Heard tell ye picked Morgan himself's purse.  Ye always did have more balls than brains, Jack-o.  Hand it over."_

_"Hand what over?" he asked innocently._

_The young man pulled a knife._

_"I have a friend coming to meet me.  Wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea, mate."_

_His assailant chuckled "You don't have any friends, Jack-o.  Never have.  You're all by your onesies.  Ain't nobody gonna come looking for Harry over the like's o' yea.  Ain't no one to going ta even miss ye."_

_He wished suddenly that he hadn't managed to shake the stranger.  The man had proven providential earlier.  He was cornered on the balcony with no where to go when Harry lunged forward.  The knife left a path of pain and blood as he unthinkingly threw himself backwards away from the blade in his ribs.  The rickety railing creaked once in protest before giving way and dumping him backwards into the street three stories below.  He pinwheeled his arms in a frantic attempt to keep his already lost balance.  As his vision grayed his realized he hadn't hit the ground but was cradled in a pair of arms.  He blinked up into emerald green eyes as a voice promised "I won't let you fall, Sparrow."_

_                It was the smell of food that woke him, that and the realization that he was ravenously hungry but he couldn't remember how he'd gotten here.  For that matter he didn't know where here was and if there was one thing he'd learned it was caution.  So he left his eyes closed and his breathing even while stretching out his other senses.  He was lying on something soft and warm.  A bed.  He realized.  An honest to God bed.  He'd never been in a bed before.  Sat on one once in one of the cheap bawdy houses but it had been hard and lumpy and reeked of something.  This bed was every bit as wonderful as he dreamed a bed could be and all he could smell was the food so it must be a **clean** bed.  It occurred to him that his side didn't hurt and it should.  He wanted to reach down and touch the wound but that would give away the fact that he was awake.  Maybe this was heaven?  He'd listened to the old priest talk about heaven, just before the pirates killed him.  The old man had been brought to __Tortuga__ to be ransomed but no money had been forthcoming.  Daft old fool had forgiven them when they'd gut shot him.  Had claimed he pitied them had said he was bound for heaven now that death had come for him.  The stranger had called himself Death and the priest had never said what death looked like.  Did Death have green eyes?  If heaven was a place with soft beds and food that tasted as good as it smelled then he wished he'd died sooner.  He wondered if he might see the priest again.  That would be nice – he missed the priest.  The priest smiled at him.  And not the smile that some of the pirates gave him.  The ones that called him 'comely', he didn't like those smiles and he liked what came after even less.  But the priest hadn't been like that he'd treated him like he mattered.  Had even asked his name.  He hadn't had one to give though – so the priest had called him Jack._

_There was a strange scratching sound.  He was abruptly aware even without opening his eyes that the green eyed stranger was at the foot of the bed.  He peeked quickly.  He was sitting across the doorway with a book across his lap.  The scratching had been the sound of his quill on the parchment.  He laid the quill in the book and tucked the book into his shirt.  He opened his eyes a bit further.  There was no sign of the book – it should be clearly visible.  There was no way you could hide a book that big in a shirt.  Not from a good slip – and he was a good slip._

_"Good morning, Sparrow."_

_He glanced around – no windows and only one door – trapped. _

_"My name's Jack."_

_The stranger shrugged "Jack Sparrow then."_

_"Am I dead?"_

_"No."_

_"Why are you following me?" he asked as he sat up in the bed._

_"I have a proposition to offer you Jack Sparrow but you keep running away."_

_"I ain't got no coin" he protested._

_The stranger arched a brow "You have Captain Morgan's purse."_

_"Harry took it."_

_"Harry didn't get far."_

_He gulped and was suddenly very glad he wasn't Harry._

_"You'll find it on the night stand with not a coin missing."_

_"What do ye want?"_

_"Now, Jack Sparrow that's exactly what I've been waiting to ask ye.  What do you want?"_

_"What you mean?"_

_"In fourteen years Jack Sparrow when you're a man grown where do you wish to be?"_

_He just blinked back at the man._

_"No dreams, Jack Sparrow?"_

_"I want ta be captain of the fastest ship in the __Caribbean__."_

_"In the end, Jack Sparrow, all that really matters is what a man can do and what he can't do" the stranger reflected "Can you build a ship? Buy one? Commandeer one? Sail one? Navigate?  Read the weather?  Find a port in a storm?  Provision a ship far from any 'civilized' town? Command men in battle?  Fight with a blade?  Staunch a friend's wounds?  Load and fire a gun?  It's not an easy thing Sparrow being Captain."_

_He sank back down on the bed deflated._

_The stranger smiled at him like the priest had.  "But I **have** done all those things Sparrow, and many more.  I will teach you Sparrow, if you let me." _

_"What's in it for you?  If I picked every pocket in __Tortuga__ I could not pay the coin that's worth."_

_The stranger sighed "No all treasure is silver and gold, mate.  And there are some things all the treasure in the world can not purchase Sparrow.  If in fourteen years when ye stand as Captain Jack Sparrow on your own quarter deck we'll both know whether I've earned that which I seek.  And if not Sparrow I'll never trouble ye again.  Do we have an accord?"  
He though furiously but all the advantage and profit seemed to be on his side.  He put small hand out and they shook on it. _

_"Your breakfast, **Captain** Sparrow" the stranger presented the tray with a grandiose flourish._

_"You're daft."_

_"Undeniably, an unfortunate failing of my entire House.__  The blood is simply far too blue."_

_He took a bite of the eggs.  Heavenly, so warm and fluffy.  He glanced up.  What was it the priest had said when he had shared his meager meals with him? 'I don't like to eat alone, Jack'.  Harry had said nobody would miss him, that he was all by his onesies.  Harry was wrong – he wasn't anymore.  He was in an accord with, with.  Well, that wouldn't do._

_"Have you already ate?"_

_The stranger thought a moment "Not recently."_

_"I don't like to eat by me onesies" he muttered quickly "Won't ye have some with me?"_

_The stranger settled himself cross-legged on the bed across from him "I would be most honored Captain Sparrow to join you for breakfast."_

_He wondered briefly what sort of mad man he'd taken up with as they ate.  But he'd liked the daft priest better than anyone he'd ever know.  Maybe it was better to be daft like…_

_"What's your name?"_

_The stranger swallowed before answering "You may call me Mallory."_

_"That's not your real name."_

_"No, it isn't."_

_He just stared at the man across from him.  Who smiled again – a different smile from either the pirates' or the priest's – he wasn't sure if he liked it or not._

_"I could say, Sparrow that it isn't always wise to use your real name and that would be true but the **truth** is that I hate my real name and I never want to hear it again.  Now, finish your breakfast Captain, we have a ship to build."_

_"To build?"___

_"You requested the fastest ship on the Caribean – well, there are things Mallory knows about ships and the sea that no shipyard in the world does and no ship they build will ever match the Black Pearl."  Mallory slipped off the bed in one fluid motion.  _

_"The Black __Pearl__?"__  
Mallory laughed – not the menacing chuckle of the pirates or the over bright laugh of the bawds but a sound like the wind playing on waves.  He tossed a pile of clothes on the bed.  New clothes, without no tears or nothin.  _

_"Get changed, Sparrow and I'll meet you below.  Come on boy, Pearl want's to feel Sea under her keel and she can't until we build her."_

_He threw on the new clothes suddenly infected with his mad companion's enthusiasm…_

                Jack ran a proprietary hand over the Pearl's rail and gave her a look that was as loving as any I've given Elizabeth. 

"It took us a year.  Mallory laid every plank, stitched every sail with me at his side.  The only thing he did alone was the guns – he sent me out on me first solo voyage on his pinnace The Peregrine for two weeks while he worked them."

I realized suddenly that the fire in my gut was fading but I was so _cold_.  I tried to hang on to Jack's words.  It certainly gave a new slant to Jack's obsession with regaining the Pearl.  I'd thought it had just been revenge on Barbossa.  I'd personally thought ten years was a long time to chase a ship, a long time to put your life on hold, except clearly Pearl had _been_ Jack's life.  I remembered too how terrified and desperate I'd been when my mother died.  I'd been eleven and suddenly completely alone in the world how much worse to be so young and abandoned?

"Then we sailed her for ten years with Mallory as Captain and me working my way up through every roll in the crew.   Mallory was the closest thing to a Da ol' Jack Sparrow ever had."  Jack was twirling his rings and studying the deck.  "Looking back Mallory was a better da than any man I've ever known had.  No matter what kind of scrape I got into Mallory never once let me fall.  Never lost his temper.  Never raised hand or voice ta me.  Taught me everything I know worth knowing.  Made me head swim, he did with all the learning he tried to stuff into it.  Near worked me arms off at sword-play.  Showed Jack Sparrow the whole world.  Circumnavigated the globe, we did.  Seemed there wasn't a coastline in the world Mallory didn't know.    And when I proved to be a mutton-head at navigation he made me a compass that always pointed me to where I wanted to go.  I served as first mate for two years and then we switched with him as mate and me as Captain.  I was Captain, lass when I sacked Naussa port without firing a shot but it was Mallory that carried it off.   So we put into Tortuga with the hold bursting with swag. Got it into me head that I needed some space if I was ever going ta make a proper reputation for meself.  Or I should say Barbossa put it in me head the month I spent more than three sheets ta the wind in the Rusty Rudder.  Now Mallory never touched rum, nor any other drink.  He'd fetch himself up in a corner with a mug of naught but water and just watch.  Never went up to a room with a doxy" Jack smiled "God but I plagued him with eunuch jibes.  Whelp ye've no idea how merciful I've been ta you.  Before it'd always felt good knowing that someone had me back but this time it felt like I was being mother henned.  Like I wasn't man enough to look after meself.  And the I noticed that Barbossa only came around when Mallory wasn't which it eventually sank into me pickled brain meant that Mallory was coming and going too.  I got rather indignant that he hadn't told me though Lord knows none of the rest of me crew was checking in either.  I took me bottle of rum and I went in search of Mallory…

_He'd been staggering down toward the docks when someone swung him into a niche._

_"M'llry" he started to slur in protest before he found his mouth covered._

_"Quiet" Mallory hissed before pushing him further back into the alcove and whirling back out to face the street.  Something dark and shadowy slipped past.  Something that's very presence turned his blood to ice water and he was suddenly more sober than he'd been in weeks.  A pack of white hounds with red ears and eyes followed close behind.  Mallory canted his head listening and then slipped back out into the alley.  _

_"Sparrow, what are you doing here?"  Mallory sounded desperate._

_"Looking for you.__  Bloody hell!"  He suddenly realized that Mallory was coated in gore from head to toe._

_"Don't fret.  So far none of it's mine.  Jack, please go to the Pearl, **now**."_

_"Not until you tell me what the blazes is going on."_

_"My father has issued a rather forceful invitation for me to return home.  I am in the process of sending a resounding no in response.  There is no need for you to be either concerned or involved.  Come, I'll go to the boats with you."_

_He shoved clear of Mallory suddenly angry "I'm not a child that needs to be coddled and guarded."_

_Mallory's gaze flickered to the left and he tilted his head as if listening to something behind him.  _

_"I swear Sparrow you have the most abominable timing.  The Cwn Annun are loose in __Tortuga__ tonight led by the Helwyr, supported by the Gwyllgi, a score of cythraul, and a difaenaid."_

_"I'm a little old for fairy tales, Mallory" he snapped._

_"We truly, truly need to talk, boy." Mallory caught his arm and started dragging him toward the beach "**Please **go to the __Pearl__.  I'll join you aboard tomorrow and explain."_

_"If you're in trouble let me help." _

_"Sparrow, you're drunk and I'd go willingly to **Him** before I let you in a fight with a difaenaid."_

_He finally managed to wrest his hand free of Mallory's vice-like grip.  He turned to face Mallory but suddenly the whole world spun._

_"Sorry Sparrow" Mallory whispered and then called "William!"_

_"It's Bill, Mr. Mallory, just Bill."_

_"The Captain's a bit in his cups – would you see him back to the __Pearl__ for me?"_

_"Aye sir."___

_He felt Bill slip a steadying arm around him.  He wanted to protest that he wasn't that drunk, except he couldn't seem to speak and just staying upright was more work than he could ever remember it being.  What the blazes had Mallory done to him?_

_"Is there something amiss, Mr. Mallory?"  Bill's breath tickled his ear._

_"We're being followed.  I'll see you to the boat and then finish dealing with the issue."_

_"Do ye need a hand, sir?"_

_"Just see the Captain to the __Pearl__, Mr. Turner" Mallory's tone had gone absolutely icy._

_"Aye, sir."___

_Bill yelped, nearly loosing his balance as Mallory shoved the little boat violently off the beach and far into the bay before he was fully settled. _

_"Odd chap, Mr. Mallory" Bill commented as he took up the oars and started rowing out to the __Pearl__.  He just blinked at Bill – couldn't he hear the baying of the hounds?  Couldn't he see that Mallory had been smothered in gore?  He wanted order Bill to row them back to shore, barring that he wanted to leap out of the bloody boat and swim back to the beach but he was suddenly a prisoner trapped in his own unresponsive body.   He stared in horror as the Cwn Annun swept down out of the town but were stopped short of the beach by a great raging inferno.  He could feel the heat from here and it lit both the town and bay as bright as __noon__ yet Bill never even blinked.  _

_                The outline of a horseman appeared at the edge of the dancing flames.  The rider called out a challenge in a language that was vaguely familiar but it wasn't until Mallory bellowed a reply that he placed it – El'lan – the fairy tongue that he had refused to learn.  He'd learned the dozen odd languages that Mallory had inflicted on him, even Latin which he had thought a terrible waste of time.  But he'd drawn the line at learning the language of imaginary beings.  Mallory had treated 'fairy tales' with the seriousness that he'd treated 'outland history' but Mallory was daft and he'd just accepted Mallory's belief in fairies as one of his many oddities.  The flames parted and the Helwyr – the Huntsman trotted through the gap.  __Sparks__ flew from the great black stallion's hooves as he pawed impatiently.  The Helwyr lowered his antlered head in what for all the world appeared to be a bow.  If he was any judge of tone at all the Helwyr was pleading.  Mallory's reply was clearly a steely no.  The Helwyr whirled his mount while Mallory stood his ground.  When the Helwyr whirled again in preparation to charge Mallory drew his sword.  In the thirteen years he'd known Mallory he'd never actually seen the blade out of its scabbard.  Like its matching dagger the blade was a glittering white but while the both edges of the dagger were straight and keen the back edge of the sword was rippled, nearly serrated, clearly designed not to slash but to rend and tear.  The blade seemed to exude a menace all its own and he was suddenly glad he'd never seen the thing before, wished in truth that he wasn't seeing it now.  The Helwyr spoke again still pleading – Mallory saluted and said "Rhyddid ynteu addoed" with a quiet determination. The Helwyr returned the salute and charged.  He'd outright laughed at Mallory when he'd in all seriousness suggested he learn to joust.  Jousting – he was going to be a pirate captain on the high bloody seas not a damn knight of the bloody round table!  They'd compromised – he'd learned to ride and the basic principals of unseating a rider.  Mostly he'd ended up being the one getting unseated because Mallory was a bloody centaur.  Even when Mallory had stripped every bit of tack off the horse he'd never managed to throw him.  Yet another thing bloody Mallory excelled at.  But he had learned very well just how bad a position the guy on the ground was in.  He released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding when Mallory survived the first pass apparently unharmed.  He eluded his attacker just as nimbly on the second pass.  His luck ran out on the third.  You could actually hear something snap as the Helwyr's mace thudded home but he stayed on his feet.  The stallion pawed as the Helwyr made another plea.  The only word he knew was boddhain – please.  Mallory's voice was weaker but still determined as he repeated "Rhyddid ynteu addoed".  Mallory's left arm hung completely limp at his side and he could see the white dagger lying in the sand.  The Helwyr charged again but this time as Mallory vanished behind the stallion's bulk it screamed, throwing its head back in agony.  The Helwyr threw himself clear as the animal crumpled into a heap on the beach.  _

_"Tristwch" Mallory said sounding truly apologetic.  Why in blazes would Mallory be apologizing to a monster that was trying to kill him? _

_                The fight should have been more even now that the Helwyr had lost his mount and he started to relax utterly confident in Mallory's unmatched skills.  Except Mallory wasn't winning, in fact he was barely holding his own.  The Helwyr was methodically forcing him backwards up the beach away from the sea and perilously close to the inferno.  If he'd had control of his mouth he'd have gaped in shock as Mallory pulled one of the most foolishly desperate moves he'd ever seen.  It shouldn't have worked.  It really shouldn't except the Helwyr was clearly as stunned by the stupidity as he was and the white sword sank into his chest up to the hilt.  _

_"Maddewch I mi" Mallory entreated as he wrenched the blade free, twisting it to maximize damage and then catching the Helwyr before he could fall.__  They swayed awkwardly as Mallory tried to compensate for his injured left side before he laid the Helwyr tenderly on the sand._

_"Maddewch I mi" he begged again.  Mallory hadn't given in gracefully to his refusal to learn El'lan and had taken to peppering his everyday conversations with it until he'd learned a bit perforce.  Maddewch I mi – forgive me.  Suddenly Mallory's earlier comment about his father clicked home.  Mallory **knew** the Helwyr.  Mallory slipped the Helwyr's great antlered helm free letting it roll away unheeded as he pillowed his adversary's head in his lap.  Without the helm suddenly the Helwyr no longer seemed a monster - just a man with long, golden hair – and pointed ears.  He reached up weakly and brushed Mallory's injured arm and side gently._

_"'s dim ots" Mallory replied.  Now there was one he knew instantly – it's nothing._

_"Celwyddwr" the Helwyr rebutted – another word he recognized easily since Mallory had called him it so often it almost constituted a nick name – liar._

_"Maddewch I mi" again from Mallory.___

_"Beth cayns" – for what?___

_Mallory's reply was a long almost frantic flutter of words the only one of which he could pick out was lladdedig – slain._

_"Hedd bach eneiniog" the Helwyr's voice was weak but there was command in his tone.  He searched his meager knowledge of El'lan hedd was peace, bach was little or young, eneiniog was a complete mystery. _

_Mallory's reply was too soft to carry and the Helwyr's response was lost in the splash of one of Bill's oars hitting the water a little off.  He wanted to snap at Bill in annoyance.  They were far enough away that he was already straining to hear anything which meant they should be coming alongside the __Pearl__ soon.  It was a strange sight to watch a dying being trying to comfort his killer.  Odd as well that the Helwyr's voice was actually clearer than Mallory's._

_"Ymwroli, tywysogion am ein gobaith."  He couldn't make heads or tails of that._

_Mallory shook his head "__Neb.__"_

_"Dis. Chwithau tywysogion a cyfaill.__  Rhyddid yn addoed.  Blachder a gwini."  They clasped hands._

_"Hwyl, Mannwan." Mallory closed the staring eyes just as they bumped against the __Pearl__.  Bill picked _

_that__ particular moment to obstruct his view and he unthinkingly threw himself to the right and nearly swamped them. _

_"Easy, Capt'n" Bill sounded amused as he sat up in the boat abruptly free of what ever spell had held him.  Mallory had risen and crossed the beach to half-kneel before his dagger.  Bill frowned and glanced back at the beach "No need to worry about Mr. Mallory, Capt'n.  That's one man who can handle himself."_

_He couldn't help glancing at Bill and wondering about his own sanity "What do see on the beach?"_

_"It's too dark to see that far" Bill gabbed his arm, concerned "Let's just get you to your cabin, Sir."_

_He stared at Bill realizing that he couldn't see the fire-light reflected in his eyes.  He turned back, the inferno, the dead stallion, the Helwyr, and Mallory were all still on the beach, plain as plain.  And then the flames flickered, nearly dying.  He blinked, unable to see in the sudden dark but then the fire flared back to life revealing Mallory surrounded by more than a half-dozen Cwn Annun.  The wind was rank with the scent of charred dog and the baying of the remainder of the pack was reaching a frenzied pitch.  Mallory had recovered his fallen dagger and he was surprised to see him using his left arm.  He'd heard it snap but there was no denying that Mallory'd made a miraculous recovery as he dispatched one of the hell hounds with the dagger in his left hand.  He made short work of the dogs and then spun starring out over the harbor. _

_Bill shivered next to him. "Odd cloud.  Puts a chill in your bones."_

_He swallowed as the horror above them cocked its head.  He could feel the intensity of its gaze as it stared at him.  He froze like a rabbit trapped in a wolf's glare.  Just as it opened it maw it was broadsided by a fireball.  _

_"Was that a shooting star or Saint Elmo's Fire?"  Bill shook his head "Either way an ill omen."_

_But both he and the monster had turned to the beach where Mallory was holding a second fireball.  He'd always known that Mallory did magic.  The compass alone was proof but there'd been other signs through the years.  The __Pearl__ herself was proof, though he hadn't realized it as a child.  No single man and boy could build a ship of this size, and then there were her timbers.  Pearl was built of a strange black wood that he'd never seen anywhere else in the world, timbers that had simply appeared when they were needed.  Mallory had even tried to teach him some things but he'd never able to grasp any of it.  Still the fireball was rather a surprise really. Very interesting._

_"**Damn it, Sparrow get aboard the bloody Pearl**!" Mallory roared as he flung the second fireball.  The creature hissed at Mallory, followed by a growling rumble of El'lan that he didn't follow. _

_There was a note in Mallory's reply he'd never heard before – fear.  The creature made a rasping sound.  Good God, it was laughing.   It glanced down at him and then back at Mallory and spoke again.  Mallory sheathed both his blades and dropped down on one knee in the sand with his arms outstretched.  The beast looked outright stunned._

_"Please, Jack" the wind whispered in Mallory's voice.  The Jack threw him.  Mallory never called him Jack at least not without Captain and Sparrow to bookend it as it were.  He scuttled up the ladder backwards much to Bill's amusement.  The beast's attention snapped back to him just as he swung over the rail.  He stumbled backwards as it extended its long neck toward him with its great jaws agape.  He drew his sword determined to at least be a spiny mouthful when a great lash of lightening came from the __Pearl__ herself and the beast screamed in agony.  Mallory taunted from the beach in a na-na, na-na tone._

_"You can sheath your cutlass, sir" Bill soothed "it's just a bit more Saint Elmo's Fire" but Bill was looking at the sky a bit nervously himself.  He pushed past Bill as the beast shrieked in rage and turned on Mallory.  His jaw dropped.  He didn't believe it.  He just blinked in the sudden inky darkness.  Mallory had turned tail and fled.  Unflappable, ice water under fire Mallory had broken and bolted._

_                "A-hoy" Barbossa's voice drifted up from the other side of the __Pearl__._

_He slid his cutlass back into its sheath and ambled to the port rail._

_"Ah, Captain Sparrow.__  I noticed ye'd quit the Rudder and thought I might have a quiet word with ye.  Permission to come aboard, Captain?"_

_"Granted."___

_He stepped back giving Barbossa ample room.  _

_"Ah, Jack, she's a beauty, she is.  You're a lucky man, Jack.  To have something so fine so young.  A course ye've got Mallory ta thank for it.  Got ye tucked up under his wing – wonder if he'll ever let ye fly?"_

_He fixed his attention on Jack "Have ye thought on me proposition?  That is of course **if** ye really know the way to Isla de Muerta at all."_

_"Of course I know the way to Isla de Muerta.  I'm Captain Jack Sparrow.  The only question is if you and your lads will dare the wrath of the Aztec Gods."_

_"I think we can handle it.  If the gold be there at all."_

_"Oh, it's there 882 identical pieces in a stone chest.  I've seen it mate.  The treasure of Cortez on the __Island__ of the Dead just waiting for the pirate bold enough to take it."_

_"Talk's cheap, Captain Sparrow.  Do we have an accord?"_

_He nodded "We have an accord.  Bring your lads aboard."_

"Made the biggest mistake of me whole life that night whelp.  Left behind a crew that was absolutely loyal ta me.  Just sailed away without a word. Good men, like your father.  Each and every one hand picked by Mallory and that was the problem at least in me mind.  They called me Captain but too many of them remembered me as a boy and they looked to Mallory.  And I was too impatient to earn their respect as Captain.  So I took Barbossa and his crew of miscreants instead.  Three days later I woke up in me own brig."

"Wait a minute" Elizabeth interupted "You'd been to Isla de Muerta before?"  I'd wondered about that myself in the moments when my whole concentration wasn't consumed with remembering to breath.

"Of course, Mallory took me.  But that's a different story Lizzy.  Now, as I was saying."

"But how did you know there were 882 pieces?"

"One story at a time, Mrs. Turner" Jack sighed theatrically "as ye like but I'm warning you, you're disrupting the whole flow of me discourse.  It was three years before I lost the Pearl, just before Mallory promoted me to mate.  We left Matthews in charge of reprovisioning the Pearl and we set out in the Peregrine, just the two of us.  Like the old days…

Flashback 

_"Where are we bound for?"_

_Mallory's eyes were far away "Isla de Muerta."_

_"The __Island__ of the Dead?__  The island that can only be found by those who already know where it is?  Ye never said ye knew where it was."_

_Mallory shrugged "You never asked."_

_He rolled his eyes "I've never noticed ye being shy about imparting information before.  So why are we going to Isla de Muerta?"_

_Mallory shook his head "Patience is a virtue, Sparrow."_

_"But vice is so much more agreeable" he rebutted._

_"Ah, the passing pleasures of sin."  Mallory glanced at him._

_"Hebrews __11:25__ Choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the passing pleasure of sin."__  He quoted tiredly "Would you like it in the original Latin?"_

_"Actually given that it was a letter to the **Hebrews** I doubt that it was originally in Latin."_

_"I ain't learning bloody Jewish."_

_"Hebrew, Arabic, or Copetic maybe."___

_"Not them neither."_

_Mallory had gone back to staring at the horizon._

_"So about Isla de Muerta?"_

_"Soon enough, Sparrow, there it is" he nodded toward the speck that had just appeared on the horizon. _

_He turned and shivered "Ugly place."_

_"Doesn't get any better up close.  How many ships?"_

_"Ships?"___

_"On the bottom, Sparrow.__  You want to know why it's called Isla de Muerta  you tell me how many hulls are lying on the bottom of this passage."_

_He glanced at Mallory and then scrambled up the rigging so he could get a more panoramic view.  He rejoined Mallory on the deck when they dropped anchor._

_"Seven."_

_"I'd like to think I taught you better than that Sparrow.  Let's go ashore."_

_He frowned at Mallory, a little surprised at the rebuff, and then followed him to the boat.  He was even more surprised when they went past a cave entrance, grounded the boat on a rock ledge, and started climbing along a narrow trail.  When they reached the top of the promontory Mallory passed him the glass._

_"Now, Sparrow, how many ships?"___

_"I can't see the bottom from here" he protested._

_"Don't look at the bottom.  Look at Sea, learn to read her face and you'll never want for knowing what she's hiding in her depths."_

_"Nine, not seven, nine ships, three reefs and a shoal."___

_"Well done, Sparrow.  The ships are the Pascoe, the __Rosario__, the Cacafuego, the Gran Grifon, the Gama Dorado, the La Capitana, the __Madre de Dios__, the __Santa Ana__, and the San Luis."_

_"And you can tell that from **here** just by looking at the Sea?"_

_"No" Mallory whispered "I know because I sent them to the bottom."  He turned abruptly backtracking a bit and then taking a spur trail to a small plateau.   _

_"In 1520 the Aztec Emperor Montezuma gave a man he thought was the god Queztalcoatl a great treasure in hopes that he would leave __Mexico__. Unfortunately for Montezuma the gold only whetted Cortez's greed.  Not long afterward Montezuma was murdered and in the course of the Spanish retreat the gold was lost.  And so it remained for many years but nothing stays lost forever.  The gold was found at a highly fortuitous moment for __Spain__ and a disastrous one for __England__.  The two countries were on the brink of war and the English treasury was utterly empty.  If the treasure of Cortes reached __Spain__ it would finance an undefeatable fleet on the other hand if it could be discretely stolen then it would give __England__ her one chance to prepare for the war.  As ye know Sparrow there's a difference between a pirate and a privateer, but what most don't know is that there's two kinds of privateer.  The first and most common are the ones that have a letter of marque to pillage the shipping of a foreign nation but there is a second group.  Drawn directly from among the Royal Navy, not pressed men but the best of the best, chosen for their absolute loyalty to the Crown and assigned the tasks that it isn't… diplomatic for the Crown to acknowledge. Men who know that if they're captured they will not be accorded the privileges of a prisoner of war and that they may in truth be disavowed and executed as criminals by the very Crown they serve.  I and my men were ordered.."_

_"You?__  A Captain in the bloody Royal Navy?" he crowed in disbelief._

_"No, Sparrow, not a Captain, an Admiral." _

_He just shook his head, Mallory might know the sea better than any man alive but he was so damned daft.  He sighed resigning himself to listening to God alone knew what bit of madness. Mind you it was generally interesting madness, Mallory was quite a story teller but still.  He'd come to the conclusion that Mallory was just **too** learned.  The way he figured it a man's mind could only hold so much before it cracked and Mallory had clearly exceeded the limits.  It made him doubly determined, it did, not to learn **all** the bleeding stuff Mallory tried to fob off on him._

_"As I was saying I left the bulk of my fleet with my less than brilliant second and stalked the Cortez Treasure Fleet with just my own vessel.  Four ships packed with ordinance and fighting men, five galleons so full that they were near to foundering.  I penned them in the narrows and between my guns and the reefs pounded the guard ships to bits.  Between that display and my reputation the treasure galleons surrendered without another shot fired."_

_"Your reputation?" he asked hopefully._

_"We both know, Sparrow, that Mallory isn't the only name I've worn."_

_"Have I heard of ye?"_

_"You've heard.  Not from my lips but you've heard."_

_"Who are ye?" _

_"Mallory" was the snapped reply._

_He felt his own anger flare in frustration at yet another evasion from 'Mallory'. "Then who **were** you?"_

_"Someone I hope never to be again" was Mallory's soft reply.  "I had the Spanish sailors stow all the treasure in the cave below us.   I had my crew load as much as my own vessel could safely take.  Then I had the prisoners brought up here and handed shovels."  Mallory swallowed and took a deep breath "I told them that I'd decided that the treasure was too exposed below and wished to bury some up here.  What I didn't tell them is that I'd had the galleons scuttled in the midst of the passage to hinder the approach to the island and that I'd stripped them of their guns."  Mallory pointed "They're still in place.  I had them loaded with nails and crushed glass and when the pit was deep enough I had the guns uncovered,  pulled the sentries back and opened fire.  No quarter, no mercy, and nowhere to go.  Two hundred and thirty-seven men who'd surrendered to me in good faith."_

_Now he **knew** it was pure blabberdash "**You** – no quarter?  **You **– broke your word?"_

_"I never actually gave them my word – I gave them no terms at all.  It was an unconditional surrender" Mallory produced a shovel from somewhere and tossed it to him.  "If you don't believe me then dig Sparrow.  I misjudged how deep a pit you need for 237 men, there's very little soil over them at all."_

_He stood there a moment staring at the shovel before tossing back to Mallory.  The shovel came flying back at him so fast that he stumbled as he caught it and landed heavily on his arse.  He shook his stinging left hand surprised to see a trickled of blood on it.  He glanced down and realized that he had landed in a scatter of nails and crushed glass.  He scrambled up suddenly wanting **off** this spooky island._

_"Ye nearly sent Bailey through the mast when he wanted to load the forward guns with nails and crushed glass.  Ye said only a brute would use such a weapon."_

_"Yes, I said it because I know from experience." Mallory gave him a not smile "All these years you've wheedled and whined to know my past Sparrow and now you balk.  Dig boy."_

_He took out his anger on the shovel, shoving it violently into the earth.  Mallory had said they weren't buried deep but he hadn't expected to bring up a skull in his first shovel full.  He jerked back in surprise and the skull rolled away, coming to rest at Mallory's feet.  Mallory cocked his head as if listening._

_"Diego de Esposia."_

_"What?"_

_Mallory had dropped on one knee and picked up the skull._

_"His name was Diego de Esposia from the Gama Dorada.  He's one of the ones I slit the throats of."_

_He decided he really didn't need to know anything else.  He preferred the Mallory he knew that was a stickler for parley, granting quarter, and general all around fairness.  The thought that the past held a different Mallory was disconcerting at best._

_"Slit throats?"_

_Mallory was staring deeply into the empty eye sockets "Even at my worst I didn't bury men alive." Mallory shuddered "and I took the responsibility for killing anyone that survived the guns personally.  Diego was near the end of the day.  I was in a hurry and cut too deeply.  Nearly decapitated him.  Got my dagger stuck here" he touched the back of his own neck "Lodged it in the fourth vertebra.  Terribly sloppy, messy too.  If you dig a little deeper you can confirm the notch in the bone."  Mallory's green eyes held his over the crown of the skull "I'm not lying Sparrow."_

_"Why?"_

_"Why did I kill them?  Because dead men tell no tales, at least not to human ears, and because if the King of __Spain__ had known about this he would have launched his attack long before we were ready.__  The question isn't why did I kill them, Sparrow, but why was I fighting for the English?"_

_"You're **not** English?"  That was almost as much a surprise as the nails and crushed glass._

_"Not English, not Spanish.  It wasn't for patriotism – all a flag is is a rag on a stick.  And it wasn't for greed – the English crown may have been bankrupt but I certainly was not and not a coin did I keep.  And it wasn't for fame – I've never had your craving for a reputation though I certainly earned one."_

_That intent stare Mallory was giving the skull was beginning to truly, truly disturb him, this was not the turn Mallory's madness generally took._

_"Then why?"_

_"The truth?__  A personal vendetta against the King of Spain but instead of just walking up and killing the silly git I smiled at him across the council table and made war on his whole bloody empire." Mallory hadn't taken his eyes off the skull "I know it doesn't mean much but I am sorry that you never went home, that your daughters grew up without their father, that your wife was left a widow, and that they never knew what became of you.  I'd like to be able to say that if I had it to do over I'd do it differently but I'm not sure I can.  All I can say is that I truly regret that you and the others got caught in the middle."_

_Good God, but Mallory'd completely lost it – he was **talking **tothe damn thing.  **This **is what came of too much bloody Shakespeare if he started wringing his hands and 'crying out damn spot' he was going to sail away on the Peregrine and leave Mallory to his raving.  _

_"So ye are a lord's son" he said in hopes of distracting Mallory.  He'd never been so relieved in his life as when Mallory rose and gently replaced the skull.  Mallory took the shovel from his unresisting fingers and smoothed the soil back over the mass grave._

_"You undershoot the mark, Sparrow, I actually stand above mere peerage."  Mallory gave him another not smile "When was the last time you met a sea captain that was better educated than a college emeritus?"_

_For the first time he hesitated to jump on a hint of Mallory's past.  _

_"What a naïve young fool" Mallory whispered._

_"Diego?"___

_Mallory shook his head "Me.  I honestly thought I could do this and walk away unscathed.  I walked away and never looked back.  But there's always a price for spilled blood."_

_He took a cautious step back – it looked like Mallory was going to have a Lady MacBeth moment along with the Hamlet interlude.   _

_"You either stop feeling anything and become a killing machine or you end up drowning under all the regrets."_

_"And which are ye?" he asked when Mallory's silence stretched too long._

_"I've been both and neither is pleasant." He found himself caught in Mallory's haunted green eyes "In less than four years Sparrow you'll be sailing the __Pearl__ under your own colors.  Ye seem to have your heart set on piracy" Mallory sighed "and it's your life and your choice and I'll not gainsay you.  But remember this Sparrow, blood never comes clean and I hope that when you look back on your life you've something more than regrets."  Mallory glanced out over the killing field "When ye dig up the past all ye get is dirty."_

_"I don't know that one."_

_"You wouldn't – it's something Cromwell said to me once in the Tower when I was younger than you.  Silly fool that I was I believed that the past could be buried.  Should have known better than to take advice from a man on his way to the block."_

_This was so not good, Mallory was further around the bend than he'd ever guessed "Oliver Cromwell didn't die on the block."_

_"Not Oliver – **Thomas **Cromwell.  He plotted the deaths of more men then I ever did but never had the intestinal fortitude to do his own killing.  Was always proud of that back when I was a courtier – that I never hired out my dirty work.  Always thought that if I was going to kill a man I should at least give him a chance to hit me back.  That's why I never used poison either even though I was well trained.  Not that **HE** ever believed that."_

_"He?"_

_"Father" Mallory sounded like he was choking on the word._

_"Your father's still alive?" he asked, curious in spite of wanting very badly off this island._

_"Regrettably.__  There isn't much love lost, Sparrow between **HE** and I which is why I was fostered into the English court before the third anniversary of my birth.  But I'm digressing Sparrow – my point is the past never stays buried and it has a nasty habit of sinking its teeth into you when you least expect it.  And events have an even nastier habit of getting ahead of where you ever meant for them to go.  Just, please Sparrow, don't let the need to make a reputation get ahead of your good sense.  Ask not for whom the bell tolls.."_

_"It tollth for thee – John Donne.__  Now can we bloody **leave**?"_

_"I wonder what happened to them?" was Mallory's distracted reply._

_"Who?"___

_"His daughters, they were his last thought.  He wasn't afraid of death only of failing them."_

_"He probably just told ye that to keep ye from killing him."_

_"He said nothing to me at all.  I was not in the habit of having long discourses with common sailors."_

_"I imagine it is harder te kill a man ye know."_

_"In all honesty, Sparrow I never found it so.  I was simply too much of a snob to demean myself by mingling with the lesser orders without significant profit to be found in it."  Mallory pinched the bridge of his nose "And you are absolutely correct, we have lingered here overlong."  And with that Mallory set a pace that had him scrambling to keep up.  It wasn't until they were back in the boat that he had an opportunity to ask the question that had been bothering him.  One that he wasn't certain he wanted to ask or that he truly wanted an answer to._

_"Ye never spoke ta Diego?"_

_"Not as a living man."_

_"Then how did ye know his name?"_

_"Because he told me, today."___

_He swallowed "Dead men tell no tales."_

_"Not to you, Sparrow and I envy you that."_

_"Envy what?"_

_"That you can't hear the dead."___

_"You're daft" he whispered but for the first time he was frightened instead of amused at Mallory's oddities._

_"So you tell me" Mallory replied as he rowed them into the cave instead of back to the Peregrine.  _

_"Of course it wasn't just the slaughter that earned this forsaken piece of rock its reputation.  It was the fact that the men were sworn to secrecy.  Those that wanted to brag couldn't and those that wanted to weep did so alone in the late watches.  My first lieutenant committed suicide.  What a fool.  I never, never should have let him aboard.  But he was so damnably good and he wanted to sail with me so badly.  Nothing else would do for him.  He followed me like a bloody puppy.  One look at him and I knew he wasn't cut out for my kind of work.  He was one of those fresh-faced innocent youngsters that could talk about honor and integrity with a straight face.  Hero worship can be so damn ego gratifying and the truth is I needed a good lieutenant.   I told myself the boy **needed** a good dose of reality, that he knew his duty and would do it.  Best second I ever had, utterly dependable, steady as a rock right up until he scattered his brains all over his cabin on our third trip back.  Replaced every damn thing in that room and I could still hear him."  Mallory slapped the water with his oars "At any rate men deep in their cups whispered bits of tales until this place became a legend.  The cursed island of the dead that can only be found by those who already know where it is and that houses a treasure guarded by the heathen gods of __Mexico__."__  Mallory barred his teeth "And in some ways I suppose it's true." Mallory grounded the boat again, grabbed a pair of empty sacks, and led the way deeper into the cave._

_                As a young aspiring pirate the chest resting in a shaft of sunlight should have stirred delighted avarice, instead he only felt a cold dread._

_"This is what remains of the Treasure of Cortez" Mallory gestured to the stone chest "And the real reason we're here."  Mallory drew a deep breath before setting his hands reluctantly on the lid.  "I made the excuse that the ship was already overloaded but the truth is I didn't want this, this horror on board."  He visibly braced himself before sliding the lid back and then trembled slightly.  The interior was completely covered in a red-brown film.  Mallory picked up something and blew gently.  Brown flakes fluttered down into the chest revealing a golden coin with a skull in the center._

_"This is blood money, not just money blood has been spilled for but forged in it.  Cortez and his men were housed in the Axayacatzin on an island in the midst of the city.  In order to escape the island they had to cross one of the seven bridges.  The Aztecs managed to destroy sections of the bridge trapping 2/3's of Cortez's forces.  312 Spaniards and 404 of their Tlaxcalan allies were captured alive.  The fate of an Aztec captive was not pleasant.  They were sacrificed to Smoking Mirror and the Humming Bird on the Left." Mallory's eyes had taken on a strange, frightening gleam._

_"Who?" he asked more as a distraction than in a real desire for clarification.___

_"Smoking Mirror was the chief Aztec god.  The Humming Bird on the Left was the war god."_

_He snickered – he just couldn't help it._

_Mallory's slightly crazed eyes fixed on him "If I was going to make something up it wouldn't be Smoking Mirror and Humming Bird on the Left."_

_"So what was the Humming Bird on the Right?"_

_"I haven't a bloody clue" Mallory snapped testily as he began filling one of the sacks.._

_"So there is something ye don't know?"  He flashed Mallory a smile and continued theatrically "me bubble is burst – and here I…"_

_"Not now, Sparrow."_

_He'd heard that tone used on rare occasion on the deck but it had never been directed at him._

_"Please" Mallory said in a softer tone "The Aztecs believed that if the gods were not fed a constant diet of beating human hearts the universe would come to an end.  They also believed that Cortez was the god Quetzalcoatl and that to defy him was to risk annihilation.  In order to escape this fate it was imperative that Smoking Mirror and Humming Bird be as powerful and well fed as possible.  Instead of pursuing Cortez and crushing the remnants of his little army they spent three days creating this."  Mallory paused and switched to the second sack "There was a prophecy that Quetzalcoatl would return in 1519 and attempt to overthrow the other gods and end human sacrifice but the Aztecs couldn't conceive of a god that didn't need to feed.  They concluded that given Cortez's love of gold that gold must be his sustenance.   By mingling the molten gold with the blood of the sacrifices they believed they were magically subjugating Cortez to Smoking Mirror and Humming Bird.  Afterward they sacrificed one of their own for each enemy captured to the other gods of the large Aztec pantheon.  With the creation of each coin they ritually called on their gods to curse whoever took possession of the treasure."_

_As he started to reach in and pull out a coin Mallory slid the lid shut so hastily that he only just managed to snatch his hand back in time._

_"So the treasure is cursed?"_

_"For there to be a curse the Aztec gods would have to exist as somewhat more than the hallucinations of an inebriated power hungry priesthood."  Mallory picked up the sacks and turned to leave._

_"I take it ye don't believe in the Aztec gods then?" he asked Mallory's back._

_Mallory paused and turned back "I don't believe in any god, Sparrow.  Not the one the Spaniards expected to receive them into paradise and not the ones the Aztecs thought they had to feed."_

_He just blinked in surprise as he began to wonder if he really knew the man facing him at all._

_"Then why have ye practically made me memorize the bloody Bible?  Why do we attend church every Sunday we're ashore?  Why did ye take clergymen as passengers and insist that they teach me?"_

_"Who conquered __Mexico__?" Mallory asked._

_"Cortez" he replied in annoyance._

_"No, the Aztecs where not defeated by Cortez but by themselves.  They could have crushed Cortez like a bug but they didn't because the believed he was something he wasn't.  Knowledge is power, Sparrow.   You can't be a good Captain without knowing something of the faith of those you fight and those who serve with you." Mallory began to turn again but he sighed with slight roll of his eyes said "Ask."_

_"But I don't see why I need to know more than a cleric."_

_Mallory set the sacks down "You're inclined to supplement the proceeds of honest trading with a bit of high seas highwaymanship, no?"_

_He smiled rakishly "More than a bit."_

_"In case you hadn't noticed Royal Navies don't generally approve of that behavior."_

_"Counting on it" he could hardly wait to truly test __Pearl__ in a way that Mallory would rarely allow._

_"And what are you going to do when they come for ye?"_

_"Out run'em.__  You promised me the fastest ship on the sea" he reminded Mallory._

_"And she is, but what happens if you're ashore when they come for you?  You'll not spend every moment for the rest of your life on the __Pearl__."_

_That stopped him cold – he'd never considered it. _

_Mallory just quirked a dark brow at him "Where is a Royal Navy least likely to seek a pirate?"_

_He shrugged._

_"Three places, in clerical robes, in the ranks of its own officers, or with the gentry which is why Sparrow I've seen to it that ye can out argue a theologian, among other things."  Mallory lifted the sacks and swiftly led them back…_

"Wait" Elizabeth ordered stopping Jack abruptly in mid-sentence.  Until her command I'd been adrift, letting Jack words drone on around me while the world slipped slowly further and further away. 

Jack sighed "Now Lizzy if ye keep interrupting me I'm never going ta finish."

"My name is **Eliza****beth**.  Mallory removed two **sacks** of coins from the chest?"

"I do seem to recall mentioning that."

"Then he should have been under the curse" Elizabeth insisted.

"I sailed with him for three more years, **Lizzy**.  I think I would have noticed if he turned into a skeleton in the moon light."  Jack took a long pull of rum.  "Heard stories about the curse for years and never believed any of'em on account o'that.  Don't know how he managed it but he wasn't cursed."

My father started to speak but Gibbs spoke first "What became o'the coins, Jack?"

Jack looked at Elizabeth "If milady will be so gracious as to allow me to continue?"

"By all means, Captain Sparrow."

_He gave the apparatus Mallory was fussing with a dubious glance "What is this for?"_

_"Ye'll see anon" was Mallory's clipped reply as he up ended one of the sacks of coins into it. _

_"I wonder how many are still there?"_

_"882" was Mallory's instant response._

_"How do you know?"_

_"Trust me Sparrow, I know" _

_"But **how** do you know?"_

_Mallory pinched the bridge of his nose "Because I can **hear** them Sparrow.  They may look identical to you but I assure you they are **not.  **Don't touch that."_

_"Why not?"___

_"Because you'll leave most of your hide behind."__  The water Mallory flicked onto the far end of the machine promptly sizzled away.  "Would you kindly fetch me another bucket of water?"_

_                When he returned Mallory was carefully examining something.  As he was setting down the bucket Mallory tossed it to him.  He nearly dropped both the bucket and the coin.  _

_Mallory frowned "I see your reaction time needs more work."_

_He nearly groaned in dread – Mallory could be a merciless taskmaster.  _

_"What do you think?"_

_He glanced down at the coin in his hand and then at Mallory's machine.  _

_"Ye can counterfeit English guineas?"_

_Mallory shrugged "Can you tell the difference?" he asked as he tossed him a second coin._

_After a close study of the two he grinned at Mallory "Ye know Royal Treasuries don't take kindly to this sort of activity."_

_"I wasn't planning to inform them" Mallory had gone back to fussing with something else._

_"If we were te just give'em a gold wash we could make a bleeding fortune."_

_"I arranged for a Lord Admiral to become a head shorter once for that."_

_"For what?"  
"__Debasing the King's coinage and keeping the profits" Mallory circled to the other side of the device. "Well not just that mind you, he was also consorting with pirates for a portion of the proceeds and planning a coup."_

_"Busy gent"_

_"Quite" Mallory replied distractedly "but I really didn't care about any of that.  Actually he was the one who gave me my first introduction to both piracy and this little beauty."  He dumped a handful of coins into a chest._

_"Then why?"_

_"Because I was rather fond of his Lordship's wife" Mallory began._

_"Ye betrayed a man ta steal his wife?" he crowed "By Jove, there's hope for ye yet."_

The glare he got from Mallory could have stripped the barnacles off of a hulk "I was fifteen and she was old enough to be me mother."  Mallory just starred at the machine and then said quietly "Because he poisoned her and because I couldn't prove it I arranged for his other dealings to come to light."

_"That's what comes of arranged marriages" he observed._

_"But it wasn't.  They loved each other."  Mallory had wandered over to stare out the stern windows.  "But he loved power more.  He removed her because he thought he could make a more advantageous marriage."  Mallory whirled away from the windows and poured two glasses "Enough of the past.  To my new first mate."_

_He just blinked at Mallory "But Matthews?"_

_"Will become the captain of the Mariposa.__  Instead of selling her as a prize and distributing the proceeds I plan on buying the crews shares outright and then giving her to Matthews as a gift.  We'll let him have his pick of the __Pearl__'s crew and we'll take on some new men.  That way at least a third of the men will not have known you as anything but mate.  Twill make it easier when it's time for you to become captain yourself.  Now, will you join me in a drink to my new first mate."_

_He couldn't help the silly grin he knew was spreading across his face as he raised the snifter.   He played with the glass for a moment trying to work up the nerve to ask the questions he'd always wanted answers to.  Finally when the silence stretched too long he asked an insignificant question._

_"Why recast the coins?  The Aztec gold will spend as well."_

_"Let's just say that I'd rather not explain why I know where a stash of the Cortez treasure is and leave it at that."_

_As Mallory turned to go up on deck he blurted out the lesser of his two questions "What will you do, when I become captain?"_

_Mallory replied without turning "That is up to you Captain Jack Sparrow."_

Jack took a long drink.  "I don't suppose that tangent disrupted things as much as I feared.  Might even have served a purpose.  See, when Barbossa started nattering on about respect and authority it got me thinking it did about that trip to Isla de Muerta." 

Jack didn't finish the thought but then he didn't need to.  The island had frightened him and Mallory clearly didn't like it.  Every young boy has boasted about the 'haunted' place – what better way to prove himself to both Mallory and Barbossa than by facing down the 'island of the dead' with his **own** crew.  It was something only a young man would do.

"Barbossa didn't maroon me right off.  He let the crew have a few days of 'fun' and then he branded me."

"I though that was an East India Company brand" the Governor protested. 

Jack just shook his head "If you and your bloody friend Norrington knew half as much about pirates as Lizzy here you'd know it wasn't."

The Governor looked to Elizabeth questioningly.

"The East India Company brands on the middle of the forehead not the forearm."

"Wasn't even a pirate then, at least not technically.  Which was another issue I had with Mallory – that bloody lawyer kept keeping us just on the fringe of legality when I was as wild to be a pirate as Lizzy was to meet one." 

"It's **Eliza****beth****, Mr.** Sparrow."

Jack just flashed his golden smile at her and glanced down her bodice.  I'd have like to challenge him but since that was out of the question I was hoping she'd notice and slap him. 

"At first I wasn't too worried.  I kept expecting Mallory to show up on the Peregrine with the crew.  Except he didn't come.  And I'm ashamed to say that it never even occurred to me that I'd left him high and dry just when he might have needed the Pearl and I.   Then I had to watch Barbossa sail away with **my** ship and I wasn't angry at Barbossa or myself I was furious with Mallory but I still wasn't worried.  Found meself some rum to sooth me troubles and waited for the shame of being rescued by Mallory.  Except he still didn't come and the rum runners were less than best pleased to discover the depletion of their stores.  Barbossa'd taken all me worldly goods so I had naught ta barter with but meself and they were a hard lot.  About three weeks into the voyage things get a bit muzzy.  I don't recall much after that until…

                He stirred, burrowing his head into the pillow.  Pillow?  Bed?  He wasn't quite sure why but the bed was a surprise.  Very interesting  – he hadn't expected to wake up in a bed.  Why was that?

_"Sparrow?"__ Mallory voice infused his name with a mix of hope and apprehension.  When he opened his eyes he was staring into Mallory's bright green ones.  Suddenly it all rushed back, the beach, Barbossa, the __Pearl__, the rumrunners.  He kicked his way out of the entangling blankets completely ignoring Mallory's entreaties.  He snarled as Mallory's journal disappeared into his jerkin abruptly even more irrationally angry that over a decade later he was no closer to knowing how he managed that than the day they met.  He whirled and stormed out the door but Mallory blocked him at the top of the stairs._

_"Please talk to me Jack."_

_"Get out of me bleeding way."_

_Now why did Mallory look like someone had handed him the bloody moon?_

_"Why don't we go back to your room for a bit, Sparrow?" Mallory replied in the same soothing tone he used on skittish horses.  But he wasn't a bloody horse and he wasn't a bloody child and it was time to teach **Mallory** a little lesson.  He swiftly slammed his closed fist against Mallory's chest and then splayed his fingers accompanying the gestures with the 'magic' Mallory'd tried to teach him so many times.  But this time it worked.  Mallory's eyes widened in shock before he tumbled backwards down the steep stairs to lie in a sprawled heap face down at the bottom.  He swaggered down the stairs and prodded Mallory's still form with one of his bare toes.  No response – not even a groan.  He hooked his foot under an arm a rolled him none to gently over.  The green eyes blinked slowly.  He knelt and grabbed Mallory jaw forcing him to look at him.  Mallory was clearly dazed._

_"I'm going out.  **Don't follow me**" he ordered and was gratified to see both pain and a flicker of fear flash through the glazed green eyes.  Mallory just slumped back as he spun on his heel and left..._

Jack set his bottle of rum down on the deck.  "Still can't believe I did that.  I was so bloody please with meself that I'd finally scored a hit on Mallory.  Just left him there in a heap at the base of the stairs and never even thought" he stopped and rubbed the bullet scars on his chest.  "Anyone else would have left ol'Jack te die after that but not Mallory.  I went out and picked a fight in the first bawdy house I came across.  Not a bright idea on the best of days but even stupider unarmed and friendless.  I'm not even sure what happened next but I woke up on the Peregrine with Mallory leaning over me."

                "Just lie still, Sparrow" Mallory soothed as he prodded at his belly "I've got to find the last ball in your belly before" he paused and blocked the heavy book with his forearm.  "Not **now** Sparrow, please.  Do whatever ye like once ye're well."  He glanced over and spotted the pistol Barbossa'd left him.  One of the matched pair Mallory'd given him a few years earlier.  He wrapped a hand around the butt and aimed it right between Mallory's eyes.  Mallory didn't even look up from his blood soaked torso.

"Stop" he growled.

Mallory looked straight into his own eyes down the barrel.

"Which is a **very** good trick" Jack said waving one hand wildly as he demonstrated on Elizabeth.  "As ye can see the natural inclination is ta go cross-eyed."

"Captain Sparrow will you kindly **stop** pointing that pistol at my daughter."  I was chagrined – defending Elizabeth is **my **duty.

"No harm in it Guv but if ye insist" he turned the pistol on Governor Swann and pulled the trigger.  Nothing happened.  Jack grinned widely while the Governor started in terror and then fumed.

"I discharged it during the scrap in which young Mr. Turner so foolishly got himself shot and haven't reloaded yet.  Ye didn't think I'd aim a loaded pistol at Lizzy without good cause now did ye?"

I wanted to protest.  It hadn't been foolish or stupid.  Or at least it hadn't seemed so at the time.

"Now where was I – oh, yes…

"No" Mallory replied calmly "Not yet."

_He was so weak he couldn't hold the gun steady as he tried to thumb back the trigger "Git y'r bloody hands off me and leave me alone."_

_"Your not thinking clearly, Jack" was Mallory's gentle reply "Ah – got it" he muttered as he dropped a chunk of metal on the tray by the bed._

_"I will shoot you."_

_"That shot's not meant for me" Mallory asserted._

_He put the pistol to his own head.  _

_This time Mallory did pause "That shot's not meant for you either."_

_"Then who is it meant for?"_

_Mallory rolled his eyes and snapped "Who do you think?"  
"Barbossa."_

_"And in a few days when you're up to it we'll set about…"_

_"No we."_

_"Sparrow" Mallory began and stopped when he put just the faintest hint of pressure on the trigger._

_"Now that I have yer attention we're going ta have a new accord.  First no more bloody healing aboard this ship today.  Second, I will get the __Pearl__ back all by me onesies without yer bloody help.  Third get out of me bloody life."_

_"As ye like, Jack Sparrow" Mallory pulled a whistle from somewhere "But if ye ever change yer mind just blow.  Any where, any when and I'll come."  He tucked the whistle into the pocket of Jack's jacket and rose.  As Mallory's hand withdrew the pain of his many wounds suddenly flared and darkness claimed him._

Jack played with the whistle without raising his eyes from the deck.  "Ye have no idea how often I've pulled this thing out and thought about blowing it if for no better reason than te apologize.  Never had the nerve te do it though.  Me fool stubborn pride always got in the way."  He flashed me a golden grin "Suppose I should thank ye whelp for getting shot.  Don't know if I'd have ever done it otherwise."

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably and emptied his flask before speaking.  "I, he's gone Jack."

"Joshamee Gibbs what **are **ye blathering on about?"

Gibbs just muttered "I'm sorry."


	2. Gibb's Confession

Disclaimer – see chapter one 

Author's note:  The first poem is mine.  The second is a significantly reworked version of Hammer Fall's "Glory to the Brave"

Blood of Avalon 

Chapter 2: Gibb's Confession 

Jack snatched Gibbs' flask and sniffed "What have ye been drinking mate?"

Gibbs gave Elizabeth and I a glance full of pity "It's a shame.  He'd have set ye right as rain lad he would've."  He couldn't even look Jack in the eye when he said "He's dead Jack, yer father is dead."

Jack rose and grabbed Gibbs "What are ye bloody talking about? Father? Dead?"

"Ah, Jack until today I never even knew ye knew him – didn't seem te be a need te tell ye."

"Joshamee Gibbs if ye don't start making sense I'm going to send ye over the bleeding rail."

"Bad luck Jack te throw a man over the rail, especially afore ye've heard his tale."

"Then start talking."

"Jack where were ye in the summer of 1702?"

"The Azores."

"Remember that when the time comes."  Gibbs snatched Jack's rum took a long drink then turned to Elizabeth "Did ye ever wonder lass how I came te be a pirate?"

Elizabeth shrugged "I assumed you escaped the Dominant."

The Governor sniffed primly "Black bloody mutiny."

"No it weren't.  The real Commodore Howard was long dead but there weren't any way te prove it in court."

"Gibbs" Jack broke in "Is there a point in any of this?  Or are ye just trying te muscle in on me rum?"

I'd always wondered what had happened aboard the Dominant.  It had seemed a calm enough ship when it had rescued me during the crossing – but what does a lubber twelve year old know of ships?

"It all started in 1699, about a year after we brought ye across te Port Royal we put back in and got a new group o'pressed men.  Captain Grey had gone ashore te take care of business and left the ship to his First Lieutenant.  Lieutenant Cavendish was a hard man and he liked te make life hell for the new men but he was out o' his depth with Mallory Adfyw."  Gibbs took another drink.  I vaguely wondered if he would even be able to finish given how much he was drinking "Appeared to stand about so high, greenest eyes ye ever saw.  He kept a journal of black leather with a white dragon with ruby eyes on the front.  Never wrote with anything but a jet black quill.  Carried a dagger that was white as fresh snow with a pommel of entwined dragons, one white with ruby eyes, the other red with black eyes."  Gibbs finally met Jack's gaze "Sound like the man ye knew?"

"What bloody happened, Gibbs?" Jack's voice had taken on a deadly edge. 

It suddenly occurred to me that I had seen that dagger.  The dragons weren't just entwined – they were fighting.  There was a story about the fighting dragons.  Someone had told me about them, but the memory kept slipping away and I couldn't seem to concentrate enough to recall it.  That should have worried me but I couldn't seem to manage that either and so I just let Gibbs' words flow over me.

"Cavendish hated him, he did.  Lt. Norrington put him in midshipman Remington's division.  Poor little mite.  Cavendish had made the lad a nervous wreck." 

It was hard to imagine Chris anything less than self-assured.    I rather liked Lt. Christopher Remington.  He'd been the only officer that would spar with me.   He'd been kind to me about the Dominant too, he'd been almost pathetically eager for a friend his own age.  After we got back from Isla de Meurta he even cornered me for a long talk about Jack.  Called him 'the best pirate he'd ever seen'.   He'd been my best man.  I'd wanted Jack but that just hadn't been possible.  

Jack reached across and started to reclaim his rum but Gibbs tightened his grip "Can't tell this sober, Captain."  He drew a breath.  "Mallory, he tucked the boy up under his wing, made sure everything was so ship shape Cavendish couldn't force the boy te kiss the gunner's daughter any more.  That and he made sure Cavendish's spleen was all fer him.  Played him like a fiddle, always three steps ahead.  Cavendish was near te exploding when we put back inta port three months later on account that he stilled hadn't managed to find a way te get Mallory flogged."  Gibbs grinned "And his day was about to get a whole lot worse…

Flashback 

_                The sails were flat against the mast, the sea like blue glass.   The men stood baking in the __Caribbean__ sun as the Captain was piped aboard.  Captain Grey's eyes swept across their ranks the perfect portrait of cool English reserve until he reached the dark haired man with the dragon dagger.  He stumbled, only Mallory's quick reflexes kept him from measuring his length on the deck._

_"That's him, sir" Cavendish snarled "Pure trouble." He grinned in malicious delight "Striking a superior officer is punishable by death."_

_"Ye overstep yerself" the Captain snapped "This man has given no offense and will join me in me cabin.  Mr. Gibbs is my coffee ready?"_

"Aye, sir.  Sweetened just as ye like it, sir."  I trailed behind the Captain and Mallory glad that the previous steward had shown me the hidden peephole into the Capt's cabin.  I nearly strangled – the last thing I'd expected was te see was Captain Gray kneeling before Mallory.

_"Your Lordship does us much honor."_

_"Please, rise."_

_"I am not worthy to stand in the presence of my prince."_

_Mallory sighed "I am not **your **prince."_

_"Me name may be English but the blood of the Icinni flows in me veins and we still acknowledge the Kings of Avalon above the upstarts in __London__ and __Edinburgh__ towns."_

_Mallory sat on the floor.  "We are neither in Avalon, nor __Wales__, nor __England__, nor __Scotland__, nor __Ireland__, nor __Brittany__.  Here I am not a prince.  I am a hand before the mast and you are Captain of this vessel.  It is not meet that you should bow before me."  _

_"A hand before the mast?__  The greatest sea captain to ever sail –  a hand before the mast?  Good God, me great-grandfather sailed with ye first aboard the Hind and then on the Revenge against the Armada.  **Draco** does not belong before the mast."_

"Draco?!" Elizabeth cut in "The Hind – the **Golden** Hind? The **Revenge**?  Sir Francis Drake died over a hundred years ago!"

"No, lass" Gibbs returned "Drake died eight years ago aboard the Dominant."

"That's impossible" Governor Swann huffed.

"Improbable" Jack corrected in an undertone.

"Impossible for a man" Gibbs allowed "but Mallory wasn't a man…

_"Draco belongs to a different lifetime, let it lie." But he canted his head and continued "You would be Elwyn Wingfield's grandson then?"_

_"Ye remember?"_

_Mallory gave just a hint of a smile "There weren't many, Captain, that served that long aboard the Revenge."  Mallory sighed and turned to the stern windows "That ship and I broke more than one good man.  **Please**, rise." _

_"Coffee?" the Captain offered as he dusted off his breeches._

_Mallory shook his dark head "No, thank you."_

_"I'd heard rumors that ye had returned from under the Hill but I'd not thought te meet ye" the Captain still sounded overawed._

_Mallory turned back to the Captain and leaned against the stern windows with his arms crossed over his chest "**Please**, just a hand before the mast."_

_This time it was the Captain who flashed a hint of a smile "Not many hands in cloth of silver."  He sipped his coffee without ever taking his eyes off of Mallory "Ye could blind a man in the __noon__ day sun. And ye're wearing a king's ransom in rubies and black pearls.   Ye may fool those without the Old Blood but ye can't hide that ye're the Prince of the Fair Folk from me."_

_"Then transfer me to a vessel with a less discerning Captain" Mallory snapped back._

_Captain Grey set his cup down "If that is yer will, yer Lordship."_

_Mallory inclined his head and moved to leave._

_"Wait."_

_Mallory paused with his hand on the latch._

_"One boon afore ye go."___

_Mallory whirled – eyes blazing "I am **not** some hedge fairy!  Have a care human – I am neither to be bought nor lightly crossed."  Captain Grey set a battered case on the table and opened it._

_"My cetera?"__ Mallory took a step away from the door, some of anger being replaced by curiosity "How?"_

_"Me great-gran was a sweeper in __Whitehall__."_

_"**Aine**?"__ Mallory took another step toward the table "Elwyn and **Aine**?  How could she stand him?"  He shook his head ruefully "I should have known ye were a Brwnyllys."_

_"Of all the sweepers in __Whitehall__ – how did ye know which was me gran?"_

_This time the smile was more genuine – the anger gone "I am athrocysgad.  Most of my own kind can't see through my glamours and I can count on my fingers the humans I've met who can.  Only one of whom was a cleaning lass in Bess's court.  Which still doesn't tell me how you came by my cetera."_

_"Queen Eliza__beth__ was angry with ye because ye'd stopped playing so when me gran asked for it she gave it te her."  Captain Grey fussed nervously with the case.  "Elwyn died long afore I was born but Aine told me all the tales he ever told her of his daring Captain.  It made me want te sail, it did, but somehow Elwyn's tales paled compared te her own descriptions of ye in the court.  Te hear her tell it there wasn't a man or woman in all the world that could take on the Fairy Queen.  No one but the little Elven Prince could shout her down.  But even more than that she talked about ye're playing.  How ye made the angels of heaven jealous.  I've always wanted to hear ye play.  I've no right te ask but would ye?"_

_Mallory flushed crimson and bowed "Your pardon, Captain Grey.  I have thought ill of you without just cause.  I can only make the excuse that too many who have learned of my nature have tried" he broke off and began to reach for the cetera but stopped just short of the instrument with his fingers curled into a fist.  "I haven't played in over a century.  I doubt either I or my poor cetera will give a good showing."_

_"She wept, she did." Captain Grey caught Mallory's eye and held it "she never knew what made ye lay aside yer music but she wept for its loss.  She said the world was a greyer place without it.  She gave me this cetera when she died and made me promise te return it te ye if our paths ever crossed and te pass it on te one o me own if not.  I've worried, I have, that having no children I'd fail her.  Don't make me fail her."_

_Mallory wrapped his fingers around the neck of the instrument and lifted it gently. _

_"Not fair, Captain" he whispered as he plucked each string and fiddled with the tuning knobs "Any requests?"_

_"I've made me request, the choice of tune is yours."_

_I had a clever Sparrow_

_With whom I frolicked many a day_

_But when our time was ended_

_From me he flew away._

_Time may bring me others_

_But their ways are not the same_

_So upon my missing Sparrow_

_My thoughts shall remain._

_I built a regal vessel_

_Pearl__ was her name _

_And when I was not watching_

_She was stolen from the same._

_And though the seas are full_

_And many sail the salty brine_

_I do not care about them_

_For none of them are mine._

_My story has a message, _

_I have two missing friends._

_Time is passing swiftly_

_And quickly run the sands._

_And though I rule the tide_

_I can not turn back its hands._

_So let this vengeful rune _

_Be borne upon the wind_

_And teach the traitor to rue_

_The day he did offend. _

_And let numbness seize upon his mind_

_That he no pleasure_

_Underneath the sky may find._

I shivered in my hiding place as Mallory let the complex tune fade slowly away.  His voice was beautiful and the tune clever but it was a cold, terrible beauty.

_"Not te be lightly crossed indeed" the Captain muttered "Do ye turn every song inte a curse?"_

_"Only rarely" Mallory replied as his fingers began to dance over the strings again.  _

_"May I ask ye a question?"_

_Mallory stopped playing "You may ask, but I may not answer."_

_"Why did ye leave it behind?  I imagine even among the Ellyllon it would be a work of art."_

_Mallory spun the instrument, studying the rich wood and the exquisitely inlaid white dragon._

_"It was always magnificent and completely irreplaceable.  Just like the friend who commissioned it for me."  He set it back in its case with a rueful smile "I despised music lessons as much as Bess loathed embroidery.  Hated choir, abhorred the virginals, and had to be brow beaten into dancing but I learned it because it was expected of a prince.  For the next few decades I played and sang only when it was profitable to me.  During that time I became friends with another prince" Mallory turned away to stare back out the stern windows.   "I saved his life so many times even I lost track.  He could be such a reckless, reckless fool.  We were comrades in arms, adversity, and blood and I'd have said we were so close that we were brothers in everything but birth.  For all his efforts he could never play even a simple song well and he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket."  His voice took on a soft far away tone "It began with a lass, everything did with that mad Gaston.  She wanted a tune and he wanted her."  He chuckled "I actually became rather adroit through the years at wooing women into Henri's bed and at tumbling them back out when necessary.  He confronted me the next morning, so terribly angry that he'd known me nearly a decade without having any idea of my musical talents.  He railed that to hide such talent was the height of selfishness" Mallory sounded amused "So at a time when he was constantly on the run, his life in dire danger he found the best cetera maker in Europe and paid more than 'the king's ransom' in rubies I'm wearing for it.  It was one of the worst arguments we ever had when he presented it to me.  He could barely bloody afford to keep he and his men fed and he went and spent a fortune for an instrument I didn't even **want**!" Mallory grumbled before breaking into brief subdued laughter "I suppose in the end we both had our way.  He castigated me into becoming the musician I always could have been and I managed to make a hunted fugitive the King of __France__."_

_"So what happened?"_

_Mallory sighed, shoulders slumping "The friendship I would have thought unbreakable, broke.  I played to please Henri, not myself and not Bess.  There seemed very little point in it any more."_

_"I'm sorry – I had no intention of reviving uncomfortable memories."_

_Mallory finally turned back to the Captain "Don't be.  No man is an island entire unto himself but each a part of the main.  I considered my music my own and with my estrangement from Henri largely unmissed and unlamented.  Clearly, I was wrong.  You shame me again and you reiterate to me that I remain a part of the whole.  And I thank you for the lesson" Mallory bowed deeply and regally. "And even if you have reminded me that Henri and I parted badly we were friends for over a quarter century.  I will reclaim the cetera and my music in memory of better days."  He gave the Captain a bittersweet smile "History may record their lives, but I alone remember my friends now that they are long gone."_

_"Hold" the Captain stopped him again at the door._

_Mallory knuckled his forehead, eyes lowered in just the proper amount of deference of a hand to the Captain "Beggin' yer pard'n but I've tha 'for __noon__ watch, sir."_

_"I have a proposition for ye."_

_Mallory remained head down but the green eyes sharpened warily._

_"As I'm sure ye know it's a hard and lonely thing te be captain.  I'll ignore the fact that the bejeweled, crown prince of Avalon is scrambling around in me rigging out on the deck if in this cabin ye'll give me the benefit o yer experience and the grace o yer company."_

_Mallory remained silent so long the Captain drooped in defeat._

_"What is your name?"_

_"Medwyn ap Elwyn."___

_"I am exceedingly pleased, Medwyn to make your acquaintance and am at your service."___

_"And what am I te call ye?"_

_"The name I've taken is on the ship's rolls.  I've no doubt Lt. Cavendish has informed you of it." There was a trace of defiance in Mallory's tone._

_"Aye, I've seen it.  And I know enough of your people's traditions te know that ye choose the names ye use in the Outlands te mirror yer state.  I may not be fluent in El'lan but I know enough te worry that ye've named yerself Mallory Adfyw - hopeless and half-dead.  And I'll **not** call ye by either."_

_"I'm **not** hopeless.  I anticipate a day when I can honestly choose a different name" Mallory rebutted, fiercely "Besides Mallory doesn't translate well into English – ill-fated is nearer the mark.  And half-dead is still half-alive."  He smiled sardonically "I'm an optimist."_

_"So the rumors are true" the Captain mused._

_Mallory canted his head again "That depends on the rumor."_

_"I'd best let ye rejoin yer division.  I'll let Mr. Gibbs know that ye'll be providing me evening entertainment henceforth."  The Captain waved a hand in dismissal but Mallory lingered until the Captain raised his head questioningly._

_"So what will you call me then?" there was a teasing note in Mallory's voice._

_The Captain let his gaze linger on Mallory "I ought te call ye Caley.  God knows it fits."_

_Mallory laughed aloud in surprise.  For all the talk of elves and fairies it was the first genuinely inhuman thing I'd heard.  Human laughter doesn't sound like wind in waves._

_"Then Caley I shall be."_

_"Given Mr. Gibbs culinary talents, we're all likely te end up Caley."_

"Never did find out what Caley meant" Gibbs muttered as he shook his empty flask dejectedly and glared at Jack who'd flinched his rum back at some point in the tale.

"Not a drop more, Gibbs, until ye finish.  I've yet te hear why ye think Mallory is dead or why ye named him me father."

"I'm getting te it Jack.  All things in good order, bad luck otherwise.  For nigh unte two years the Dominant was best the frigate, the best **ship** in the bleeding fleet.  We took more prizes and lost less men than anyone could account for.  O course something had te be said te explain why the Captain spent so much time with Mallory so it was put about that he was a laird's son and that the Admiralty wanted him watched over like.  The lads took it well enough.  Mallory was respected, never shirked his duties even though he had the Captain's favor, always ready to lend a hand .  Even served as surgeon's mate, in two years we never lost a man that lived long enough te come under Mallory's care.  Some o the lads made the sign agin' evil over that but he weren't doing no harm.  Saved my life he did, three times in battle, caught me as I slipped off the rigging once, and pulled me out o the sea during a hurricane and I" he stopped shook his head "don't know if there was a man on the Dominant afore the end that didn't owe Mallory.  Made the end all the worse."  He rubbed a hand over his face "But I'm getting ahead o meself.  I sat many a night and listened te Mallory play, sometimes privately for the Captain but more often for us on the deck.  Was a rare privilege te watch the four o them in the Captain's cabin."

"Four?" Jack asked.

"Aye, Mallory'd already taken a shine te Midshipman Remington and one day he brought Lt. Norrington along so they could 'play a proper game of whist' and that was all she wrote.  O course once the door was shut it was Medwyn, Caley, Chris, and Zander."

"Zander?" Governor Swann asked "How do you get Zander from James Norrington?"

Gibbs smiled "James Alexander Norrington.  He never did like it – I think that was half the reason Mallory insisted on calling him by it."

"Zander, eh" Jack mused wickedly.  "I'll have te remember that."

"But nothing good lasts" Gibbs muttered…

_                Captain Grey raised the glass, studying the ship that was barely more than a speck on the horizon.  He turned to the dark haired hand who was casually coiling cables.  The Captain spoke without turning_

_"What do ye think of her?"_

_The hand's green eyes flickered up and then back to his task.  He answered in a quiet undertone "Twice our guns, more than double our crew, and he's got the weather gage.  Give way and wait for the opportune moment."_

_"Ha, ye've lost yer nerve" the Captain chided and bellowed "Hands aloft te unfurl sail. Beat te quarters and clear for action."_

_"We're already short-handed from taking the __Loire__" Mallory reminded the Captain quietly "Considerably more than double our crew."_

_"Aye, but ye're worth half his crew all by yerself" the Captain shot back._

_Mallory stopped even pretending to coil ropes "See the shoals?"_

_The Captain frowned and pulled the glass back out "Where?"  he hissed "Good eyes. I'd have sailed us right into 'em."_

_"Lure him onto them and then pound him to bits while he's aground" was Mallory's soft reply._

_"Pound him te bits? Blabberdash!  I want him as a prize."_

_"We haven't the men to sail both ships" Mallory hissed back._

_Captain Grey gave the Dominant a sorrowful glance "She was a good ship.  But a ship of the line for a frigate is more than an even trade."_

_Mallory sighed "I'll be with the boarding parties.  Be careful."_

_The Captain snorted "Yer the one that will be wherever the fighting's thickest.  I'll be safe enough on the quarterdeck."_

"Ah, it was one hell of a battle I tell ye." Gibbs grinned wolfishly "The Dominant had heart right enough but we were o'matched from the beginning.  I'd been assigned te the boarding party and chose the safest place in any fight, right behind Mallory….

Given the miss matched fight they were in the Dominants were doing well.  O' course the swath that Mallory was cutting through the ranks of the Gallants had a fair bit te do with that.  Cold as ice water and swift as a viper as usual.  It was almost a distraction.  A man could be hypnotized by that deadly dance. Maybe that was part of what made him so lethal.  I hung back letting Mallory carry the fight.  Suddenly he let loose a roar of pure rage and ripped a sword I'd never even knew he carried free of its hidden scabbard.  He shrieked – like the laugh it didn't belong in a human throat and it ended in a banshee wail that brought every fight to a halt.  He wailed again.  It was a sound that sent a chill all the way te the marrow.  I backed up te the rail, wanting as far away from Mallory as I could get.  Any hand within reach of a rope fled te the Dominant and more than one man jumped inte the sea rather than face him.  I trembled, unwilling witness te carnage.  The men of the Gallant were so terrified that only a handful even put up a fight.  After killing those he turned on the others like a wolf among sheep.  He's going te kill them all I thought as I stood frozen against the rail.  I opened my mouth with no idea what I was going to yell te Mallory when I spotted an officer swinging over from the Dominant.  Lt Norrington swallowed and tightened his grip on his sword before charging into the fray.  His sword blocked Mallory's from a cowering man's neck.  Mallory brought his sword up in a swift riposte that Norrington only barely parried.  I could see Mallory's face over Norrington's shoulder.  Those green eyes were mad and glazed.  He didn't have a clue who he was crossing blades with.  I took a firmer grip on me own cutlass and started te slide along the rail while praying that Norrington could stay alive long enough for me te get behind Mallory.

Norrington was trying te talk te Mallory while avoiding getting skewered.  I moved faster, he couldn't possibly keep it up for long.

"Mallory!" Norrington shouted as Mallory's dagger slit his coat "Caley!  Mr. Adfyw!  Please desist."

Now that Norrington was distracting Mallory some of the bolder lads swung back over onto the Gallant and took charge of the meager, cowed remnants of her crew.

"Mallory, it's over.  They've surrendered." Norrington barked in desperation as he just managed another parry.  All those fencing matches in the Captain's quarters where clearly paying off – I wouldn't have given Norrington two passes against Mallory six months ago.  He'd just managed six.  Not unscathed though, both coat and man were bloodied but he was still on his feet which was more than anyone else could claim.  Mallory caught Norrington's blade in an envelopement and sent it flying across the deck.  I flung caution te winds and broke inte a run across the blood slicked, rolling boards, sure I was going te see Norrington bleeding his life out on the deck.  But Mallory didn't strike.  Norrington's eyes met mine for just a split second and he gave the tiniest shake of his head.  I froze, waiting.

"Zander?" Mallory sounded young and uncertain, his voice nearly an octave higher than I was accustom te.  I started te move forward ignoring Norrington's clear eye signals te stay back.  While Mallory was quiet I wanted te close the gap.  Te be close enough to knock him unconscious if possible and te kill him if necessary but either he picked up on Norrington's looks or he sensed me on his own.  He pivoted just enough te cover us both.  But he didn't look crazed anymore – if anything he looked a little lost.  Then his eyes flickered wildly over the ship.  I tightened my grip ready to defend myself but Mallory's sword and dagger both clattered to the deck as he buried his face in his blood soaked hands.  He stood swaying slighting with blood running down in rivulets te pool at his feet.  It was impossible te tell if any o it was his own.

"Mallory?" Norrington took cautious step forward.  Curse Norrington as ye like as a hard nosed stickler for duty and protocol but ye had te respect the man's courage and integrity.  Neither a king's ransom nor the threat o a keel hauling would have made me face Mallory as a berserker and I certainly wouldn't have done it for a score o prisoners o war I'd just been fighting.

Mallory swallowed and ran a hand across his gore streaked hair before trying and failing te meet Norrington's eyes.

"Forgive me, Lieutenant" he whispered in that same higher pitched voice "Would you be intending to carry out sentence now or will ye be waiting for a formal court martial?"

"Court martial?" Norrington echoed, confused.

"The punishment for striking a superior officer is death" Mallory reminded him nearly inaudibly.

"Am I your superior officer?" Norrington asked brows raised.  Several crew members seeing the danger had past crept closer. "The truth if you please, **Mallory Adfyw**. I rather think I've earned it."

"No" Mallory murmured in response still rocking slightly "you are not my superior officer."

"That would make you mine then, would it not?"

"Aye" was Mallory's listless reply.

"Then it is I who stand condemned" Norrington replied coolly.

"You didn't know" Mallory's voice was steadier and he'd stopped swaying.

"I don't recall the Articles of War allowing that as a defense."

Mallory just blinked at him his eyes still not quite focused.

Norrington saluted "Our sparring lesson was instructive as always."  He winced as he sheathed his sword.

Mallory reached out "You're, I injured you."

Norrington stopped him with a gesture "Just scratches, there are men in far greater need with the surgeon."

 Mallory visibly reoriented himself and collected his weapons from the deck "I'll be with the wounded.  You'll summon me for the service?"

"Of course" Norrington closed his eyes, grief plain on his face.

"Service, Lt.?" I asked.

Norrington sighed shoulders drooping just a little in weariness "Captain Grey is dead."

I wanted a drink, badly, but tipping me flask right in front of Mr. Stickler wouldn't be wise.  My Captain was dead.  We'd never been friends, he and I, but he'd been my Captain for nigh unte ten years.  Too close te me own age te be a father figure but I'd never had anything but respect for him and the news o his loss left me reeling.

"There is still work to be done, Mr. Gibbs" Norrington reminded me pointedly.

I nodded an acknowledgement and set to work.

…

                There was a rightness te the fact that Captain Grey's funeral was conducted at sunset.  I glanced out over the ranks, noting the gaps.  Some like Lt Cavendish and Midshipmen Gillette sailing our other prize back te port, others below recovering in the surgery, but too many had just been slipped over the side.  I remembered the morning's argument. Only this morning?  It seemed a lifetime ago.  It had been a fool's fight - but for Mallory we'd all be dead or prisoners on account of Captain Grey's pride.  I scanned the crowd again, still no Mallory.  I shifted, nervously as Lt Norrington read the service, not wanting te even imagine the reaction if he hadn't been summoned.  But as Norrington closed his book the first notes of a song swirled inte being…

On the wind I heard you call my name.

Your lifeblood spilled for fame.

But your voice is fading

Into the dark receding

As you vanish beyond the rising stars

Nothing on earth lasts forever

But none of your deeds were in vain.

In my thoughts you shall remain

And deep in my heart you will live again.

It is said that even the greatest must

Like the least come to dust

So I say farewell my friend

And hope we'll meet again

When my time has come to fall from grace

Nothing on earth lasts forever

But none of your deeds were in vain.

In my thoughts you shall remain

And deep in my heart you will live again

_Every precious moment I will treasure inside_

_As a shield against the ache that you died.___

_To a fallen hero, men cry lamenting tears_

_As the endless mourning days turn to years.___

Nothing on earth lasts forever

But none of your deeds were in vain.

In my thoughts you shall remain

And deep in my heart you will live again 

_Until the song I'd been dry eyed but as it ended I was blinking fiercely.  Mallory was a blur as he walked forward.  He laid the cetera gently on the Captain's chest, whispered "You didn't fail, I did", and tipped both inte the sea._

_"Hwyll, Medwyn."_

_We stood in silence te honor the dead for several long minutes before Norrington dismissed us._

_"Andrews, go blow the powder magazine on the Gallant."_

_"Belay that" Mallory retorted._

_"Well, are you finally going to admit to your proper name and rank?" Norrington asked with sharp anger at being contradicted in front of the crew._

_Mallory shook his head "Captain Grey wanted her as a prize.  I intend to see that she makes it back to port."_

_Norrington__ shook his head "I'd like nothing better, but we've barely enough men left to man the Dominant. Let alone sail a ship of the line."_

_"Give me four men and we'll meet you in __Port Royal__."_

_Norrington__ just gaped at Mallory, then glanced at the Gallant which was listing near to scuppers "You're mad."_

_"Possibly" Mallory allowed "But that doesn't make me incompetent."_

_Norrington__ studied Mallory weighing him.  There was grief and guilt in those green eyes but none o this morning's madness.  There was also a cool confidence and a quiet determination that made me think he could do it._

_"It would take a miracle" Norrington muttered._

_"No, just magic."___

_"Captain?"__ Norrington arched a brow at Mallory expectantly.  He sighed when Mallory remained silent. "I can not leave a captured ship of the line to a mere hand.  I'd be keel hauled."_

_"I'll go with him" Mr. Remington offered._

_"Very well, Mr. Mallory, Mr. Remington if you can find three more mad men you may attempt it."_

_I surprise meself by stepping forward.  Andrews followed dragging a reluctant Smyth and we set out for the Gallant…_

"Will?"  Elizabeth sounded worried, I wondered why.  "Will, please answer me."

A set of hot fingers touched my throat lightly "He's still with us Lizzy."  A hand cupped my chin "And ye stay with us whelp, savvy?  I've yet to hear anything that makes me doubt Mallory's alive and on his way."

I squeezed Elizabeth's fingers and pried my eyes open.

"I love you Will" she said as she brushed her lips over my fingers "Please stay with me."

"Forever" I mouthed.

She smiled weakly, "You'd best continue Mr. Gibbs."

"Aye, lass.  Well the Gallant was in a bad way…

"Mayhap we should blow the magazine and return to the Dominant" Midshipmen Remington said nervously as he eyed the amount water filling the hold.  "The five of us couldn't possibly pump this clear.  Twenty men couldn't clear this.  And if the weather turns foul we've not the crew to" "Chris" Mallory cut in "have I ever given you reason not to trust me?" "Of course not." "Then leave wind, weather, and water to me."  Ten years since I was first pressed and I'd never heard an order given with more regal authority.   This wasn't the hand before the mast that the crew and Cavendish knew and it wasn't the merry gentleman o Captain Grey's cabin.  This was a prince, accustomed to and expecting obedience.  I remembered the ice cold warrior and the berserker and wondered uneasily which if any was the true face of Mallory Adfyw and which were masks.  "Set the sails and plot a course.  I'll be up to check your bearings after I see to the holes below the water line." 

_As a man we turned and trooped te the deck, none of us having the nerve te state the obvious.  The hold was already full and the lower gun deck awash.  The Gallant was a sinking ship.  But we watched the Dominant's stern lights vanish inte the night anyway._

_                I cursed as another bit of rigging gave way under me.  I sagged.  Getting the Gallant's few remaining functional sails set had taken us most of the night.  I couldn't ever remember being more bone weary.  Most of it from the battle and its aftermath but a fair bit from the unremitting fear that the Gallant was going te slip under the waves taking us with it.  Between the treacherous, battle scarred rigging and the scramble for the longboat at every groan and shift it had been a truly miserable night.  This bloody boat was a mess from stem te stern – and not just from her fight with the Dominant.  I had no respect at all for this wreck's deceased skipper.   It would take the full crew compliment of the Dominant and a month in dry dock before this death trap would be properly seaworthy.  I cursed Captain Grey's and Mallory's pride and me own sense of obligation._

_                I numbly watched Andrews clambering frantically before I realized that the Gallant was rolling.  I nearly fell te me death in me haste te reach the longboat when Mr. Remington tossed his hat in the air with a whoop.  Blasted young pup, too much bleeding energy.  He grabbed me shoulders in elation _

_"He did it!"_

_I blinked at him and grinned.  The pup was right.  Ye could feel her finding her balance again.  Midshipman Remington looked disgustingly fresh in the dim predawn light but then he hadn't spent the night climbing in and out o the rigging.  No, he'd climbed inte the rigging and stayed there, never flinching.  Mallory Adfyw had asked for his trust and the boy had given it.  It shamed me.  Mallory had boldly stated he was going te use magic te get us back te __Port Royal__.  Te everyone else that was a fool's statement.  If anyone should have had faith – it should have been me._

_                Mallory joined us a few minutes later carrying a tray o biscuits and a pot o coffee.  He ran a critical eye over our night's work and nodded._

_"Put something in your stomachs and get some rest below.  I'll stand the watch."_

_Ship's biscuit and salt beef had never tasted so good.  I wondered muzzily if he'd put a spell on it before I fell into a dead man's hammock._

_                When Mallory roused us it was well past __noon__ and he'd laid a feast fit for a Captain's table in the __Ward__Room__.  _

_"Andrews, Smyth you will have the fore __noon__ watch.  Mr. Remington and Gibbs will take the afternoon, I will stand the night watches." His gaze flickered to Remington "Well done.  Your bearings are perfect." Remington glowed under his idol's praise._

_"I've a fair bit more to set right below. Summon me **immediately** at the least sight of sail."  Midshipman Remington might be in charge on paper but there was no doubt who the Captain was._

_"And if we need to alter sail?" Remington asked._

_"We won't – the wind and sea will hold until we reach port."  He left us all agape._

_It was always bad luck te speak with certainty o the sea but te so boldly pronounce with conviction the behavior o wind and weather was unheard o.  Andrews and Smyth both made the sign against evil and I shifted with a cold knot in me own gut._

_                Unlucky or not Mallory's pronouncement held true.  The wind remained full astern and just short of gale force driving us back te Port Royal as quickly as the handful of remaining sails could bear.  Given the strength of the wind we should have been in dangerously heavy seas but the only ripple in sight was our own wake.  Midshipmen Remington bit back curse and popped his thumb inte his mouth.  I paused in me own stitching te follow his gaze te the figure in the rigging._

_"I'm concerned Mr. Gibbs" he began nervously._

_So was I though I doubt it was for the same reason.  I'd searched the bloody ship from top te bottom yesterday looking for canvas te patch together some more sails.  I hadn't found so much as a scrap and then Mallory handed me this this morning.  Put me in mind of all those tales I'd learned at me gran's knee 'bout brownies and things magically appearing in the night.  And I wasn't the only one fretting about magic.  I didn't like the way Smyth looked at Mallory when he thought no one else was.  I didn't like it at all._

_"Are ye aware that Mallory has not slept since before the battle?"_

_That brought me up short, it had been nearly five days since we'd watched the Dominant's stern disappear.  Did elves sleep?  I couldn't recall ever seeing Mallory in a hammock, but I'd never given it a thought before either.  I watched him moving about in the rigging.  Was he slower than normal?  Mallory generally scampered about in the rigging like he was born in it.  He was moving at a slow, methodical pace – but that could just be on account o the work he was doing.   I let me eyes run over the formidable amount of repaired rigging.  Our second day out Smyth nearly plummeted te his death when a whole section just unraveled.  If Mallory hadn't just **appeared **in time te break his fall we'd have been slipping him over the rail.  After that he'd stopped whatever he was doing te the hull and ordered everyone out o the rigging.  Te the best o me knowledge his feet hadn't touched the deck since.  Remington set his end of the half-finished sail on the deck and moved purposely below Mallory.  I sighed and followed. _

_"A word if you please."_

_Mallory dropped quickly down te the deck, but he wrapped his fingers in the rigging.  Nothing unusual in it, in anyone but Mallory.  I'd seen him stroll across a pitching deck in a hurricane.  A man who didn't need a line to steady himself in a gale shouldn't need one when the deck was still as solid ground._

_"Mr. Remington is something amiss?"  Calm, cool, composed._

_Remington shifted from one foot to the other "I worried about one of the hands."_

_Mallory arched a brow "In what manner?"_

_Remington swallowed "He's not sleeping, sir.  I don't think he's eating either.  Perhaps the Captain should order him te his cabin."_

_There was a flash of anger in those green eyes. "Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary" he answered before turning to start back up the rigging._

_Remington grabbed his arm "Please."_

_"Remove your hand Midshipman" there was no anger in his tone but there was no room for disobedience either.  I backed up several steps._

_"If I may be so bold, Captain Grey wouldn't have wanted you to drive yourself in this manner.  And since he is not here **I** am ordering you to rest."  Ah, but it was a brave bit o speaking.  I was right proud o the lad.  Afraid for him too mind.  As Mallory said once, he was not te be lightly crossed.  The lad plowed on inte Mallory's silence "How many times have you told me a commander is responsible for the welfare o his men?  What kind of Captain will I be if I let you kill yourself over a bit o rigging?"_

_Mallory still just watched the lad._

_"The hull is sound again and the rigging is in better shape than before we fought her.  There's nothing else that can't wait for a few hours.  We've fair winds, calm seas, and not a sail in sight.  Go to bed, that's an **order**."_

_Mallory knuckled forehead and said "Aye, Captain" without a trace o mockery._

_We turned and watched him go down the hatch._

_"Follow him and see that he sleeps" I turned to protest but it died in me throat.  Little Midshipmen Remington had done a lot o growing up in the last few minutes.  I knuckled me forehead and wondered what the blazes I was going te do trapped betwixt them if Mallory wasn't inclined te sleep._

_                It was a marvel really.  Two years ago, afore Mallory set foot on the Dominant, there had been resigned wagers on how long before young Remington killed himself.  Captain Grey was a good man but he'd had a curious blind spot concerning his two-faced second.  Cavendish had been ruthlessly destroying any officer worth his salt below him for years.  The number of young midshipmen who 'pined away' and junior lieutenants who 'had unfortunate accidents' had been down right depressing.  He was a clever bastard, never doing it quite the same way twice.  Then marvel of marvels Mallory as a mere hand had beaten him at his own bloody game and taken Remington right out o his hands.  O course as broken as Remington had been common wisdom had held he'd never be more than a junior lieutenant no matter how good a sailor Mallory made him.   And for the last two years the lad had constantly proved us right.  Damn shame too, bright, honorable, fair but with every bit o command authority beaten out o him, until today.  I wondered if that's what Mallory had meant te do.  He…  Well, elves do sleep was me first thought as I just managed te avoid tripping over him.  I glanced down at the slightly untidy heap leaning against the rough wood o the hull.  I started te return te the deck te report that Mallory was in fact sleeping but he didn't look terribly comfortable.  And he was going te wake with a terrible crick in his neck.  If elves get cricks in the neck o course.  I bent to rouse him but stopped remembering just how fast and deadly he could be.  I found a long spar instead and poked him.  One green eye slid half open._

_"Didwesightsail?" he slurred._

_"No but I thought ye might be more comfortable in the Captain's cabin."_

_"Imfine" the eye slid shut._

_I set the spar down and gauged the distance te the cabin.  Smyth wouldn't dare even glance askance at an awake and aware Mallory – but insensible and alone below deck?  I didn't put it past him to kill a sleeping man. Or elf.  I gave Mallory a shake but he didn't stir again.  Damnation but it was further than I thought I could drag him.  I went cold suddenly – was he injured?  All that blood and no way te know who's.  I'd seen more than one man just go and go and then fold up sudden like.  I thought about going back up on deck te get Remington te help me tuck him in but I could hear Smyth and Andrews making their way up.  I suddenly wanted him not just out o the corridor but under lock and key – which only left the Captain's cabin.  I wrapped one arm over me shoulder and hauled him te his feet.  I staggered not because he was too heavy but rather that he was too light.    I nearly dropped him when I realized I couldn't see the hand I had wrapped around him.  I fluttered the fingers relived to see them appear outside the illusion.  I'd know for years that I was seeing a glamour but it had never seemed real until now.  All those times Captain Grey had called teasingly called him 'little lad' made sense.   I forgot about dragging and just cradled him in me arms.  I shifted me grip a little trying te get the sword scabbard I still couldn't see te stop jabbing me in me thigh.  Now, if his head was here and the bottom o his boots were there that would make him within an inch or three o Remington – and a good four inches shorter than Mallory looked te be.  But the real difference was girth.  Mallory appeared neither broad nor slight but by the feel o Mallory he was even slimmer than Remington and he couldn't weigh more than a couple o stone.  I shifted me grip again in order te unlock the cabin and then laid him out on the bed.  A chill went through me the way his head just lolled limply back and I crossed myself._

_I moved te leave but the bloody sword I couldn't see made him tilt at an awkward angle.  When I finally pulled it free, I nearly dropped it.  What had appeared te be a battered bit o leather was anything but.  The belt itself was made o something I'd never seen afore.  A smooth, inky black material that seemed te drink in the light.  The red and white dragons chased each other its full length and down both o the matching scabbards.  The buckle was encrusted with enough rubies and pearls te buy a small ship.  I coiled the belt and set the pommel of the dagger within easy reach.  I started to flip a coverlet over him when noticed he was still wearing his boots.  I wrapped my hand around a heel and slid off the first boot.  Silver boots with, not surprisingly, more rubies, pearls, and dragons.  I set it down next to me own foot.  Mallory had some damn dainty little feet.  I set the second boot by the first flipped, the coverlet over him, locked the door and went back up on deck._

_Remington had gone back his side o the sail.  I didn't see anyone else.  The hair on the back o me neck stood at attention. _

_"Any trouble?"___

_"Depends on how ye view it" I allowed "Where are Andrews and Smyth?  I thought they came up on deck."_

_"They went back below.  Is he sleeping?"_

_"It's a good thing ye got him down when ye did, sir.  He's out like a light" I paused and caught his eye "dead te the world."_

_Remington frowned "In the open crew's quarters?"_

_So I wasn't the only one who'd noticed Smyth "I carried him inte the Captain's cabin sir and locked him in."_

_"Carried?"_

_"Dead te the world, sir."___

_"Mr. Gibbs I think we should have something more substantial for supper tonight – would you see to it?" I nodded.  The galley was close enough te the cabin for me te keep a weather eye on matters.  "And let him sleep himself out."_

_"Aye, sir."___

_                I moved as quickly as I could without appearing to rush.  I met a disgusted looking Smyth on the way.  He muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch and made the sign against evil.  The lock and door had held but it was clear someone had tried te force it.  Bloody fool!  Mallory was the only thing between us and Davey Jones Locker.  After a quick peek inside te reassure meself I went te the galley._

_                It was three hours inte Mallory's watch afore I opened the door again bearing a tray with orders te see te it that he ate._

_"That's far enough, Mr. Gibbs" said a strangely familiar voice._

_I set the tray and candle on the table and scanned the room.  The bed was empty and neatly made.  The shimmer of silver and a dozen glints of red caught me eye.  As me eyes adjusted te the dim light I could see the silhouette of a figure curled up on the shelf under the stern windows.  Me breath caught in me throat – silver and rubies.  Mallory was unmasked.  For a moment I wanted te boldly step forward candle held high but the memory of what he could do with that dagger o his stopped me cold.  Instead I strained me eyes in a vain attempt te pick out details.  But the moon had yet te rise – all I could see was that he was indeed close te Remington in height and slightly built._

_"I've brought ye some supper."_

_"My apologies for your trouble but I am not hungry."_

_"Like ye weren't tired?" I challenged._

_Suddenly two points of pale green light appeared in the dark.  Eyes, eyes that glowed in the candle light like a cat's – I'd been looking at the back of his head earlier.   Every hair on me body stood at attention under that gaze.      _

_His reply in that different but still familiar voice was cool "I am no stranger, Mr. Gibbs, to long fasts."_

_"Ye should still eat" I wished it was Remington down here instead o me._

_"No, thank you, Mr. Gibbs" the lights vanished.  I wondered if he'd just closed his eyes or if he was looking out the window again.  _

_"Why are ye doing this te yourself?"  I was trembling inside – but whatever else he was he'd been me Captain's friend and if he collapsed at the wrong time in front o Smyth he'd be following him inte a watery grave._

_He sighed "You have my word, Mr. Gibbs.  There will be no repeat of today's foolishness.  I will not drive myself to diffygiol again."_

_Me__ heart sped up – could he read minds? "Diffygiol?"_

_"I hesitate to call what I do magic for you seem to equate that with devils and demons of which I know naught" he sighed again and made a gesture with his right hand.  The movement sent flashes of red out as the candle light revealed  what had te be scores of rubies.  "The strength I tap to do magic comes from within.  No demon pacts, Mr. Gibbs.  No deals with the devil."  The glittering eyes were back with a fainter flicker of red above them – a ruby? Or a third eye?  "And like physical strength it needs to be rested and renewed.  To drive oneself to magical exhaustion is generally unwise.  To push oneself to physical exhaustion at the same time results in a dangerous condition known as diffygiol. To do so hard on the heels of receiving battle wounds is a very good way to never wake up again regardless of the intentions of certain murderous crew mates."_

_Obviously Smyth wasn't very subtle._

_"So ye were injured."_

_"Berserkers may be impressive for a few minutes but they generally end up dead." He shrugged sending more red pinpricks dancing "I am simply capable of surviving far more damage than you are and none of the Gallants crew managed to score a fatal blow."_

_"And what would that be?"_

_I got an incredulous "Do you actually expect me to answer that?" in response._

_"Ye didn't answer me question" I finally said inte the long silence._

_"I failed him."_

_"I think Captain Grey might have had a different opinion" I offered.  I couldn't bloody fathom why I was doing this.  If he wanted te sit in the window and starve himself it was none o me bleeding business._

"Had, would be the operative word, Mr. Gibbs.  He should still be aboard the Dominant – not lying on the bottom." 

_"Could ye have used yer magic te heal him?"_

_"There are very few wounds I can't heal, Mr. Gibbs, but the loss of a goodly portion of one's head to a cannonball is on the list.  I can't raise the dead – and he died so quickly I knew before he did."_

_"Could ye have stopped the cannonball?"_

_"Once it left the gun?" The quarter moon was beginning te rise behind him, not enough light te see clearly by but enough te pick out a bit more.  He worried his lip a moment and then allowed "Possibly, probably not.  But I didn't have to let the gun fire.  I am Etifedd chan Mor a Tanio, Mr. Gibbs – the Heir of Sea and Fire.  I could have silenced every gun on this ship with a thought."_

_"Then why didn't ye?"  In the old tales ye heard of wishes granted or milk curdled – not guns stilled.  Made me wonder with a new surge of fear what else he could do._

_The glittering eyes turned away again "Some call it foolishness, others honor or pride."_

_"And what do ye call it?"_

_"Fair."  The glittering eyes met mine "No matter how fierce the battle, no matter how desperate the hour I've never used magic to win a fight."_

_"The Captain never have spoken te ye again, if ye'd done it."  And the crew would have ripped ye apart I thought.  There was no doubt if anything went wrong aboard the Dominant who would be named the Jonah._

_"What I should have done was ensure that the battle never took place and that, Mr. Gibbs was my failure as a friend."  He shifted a little making the rubies dance again.  "As Mr. Remington demonstrated so beautifully today – friends save friends from their own stupidity."  There was enough guilt in that voice te choke on._

_"Speaking o Mr. Remington he says yer te eat this afore coming back up on deck." _

_"Does he now?" There was still grief and guilt there but he sounded pleased as well before leaning further back into the shadows with a sigh._

_"Cavendish, Norrington, and Remington" he muttered reflectively._

_"Ye think he'll go after them?"  In the midst of everything I hadn't even considered the implications o the Captain's death on the Dominant's other officers._

_"I think he'll kill him" was the reply from the shadows "unless someone intervenes."_

_"What are ye fixing te do?"_

_"That Mr. Gibbs is one of the many questions I was ruminating upon when you arrived.  My first intention was to see the Gallant repaired and safely docked before allowing Mallory to suffer an apparently fatal accident."_

_"Ye're leaving then?"_

_"I hardly think the crew of the Dominant will welcome me back." He observed dryly "As a well respected Captain's pet my… idiosyncrasies were overlooked.  Provided of course that the magic remained subtle and easily explained away."  He waved a hand at the Gallant.  "This ship should have sunk within an hour of the Dominant's departure, and there were enough of the Dominant's crew aboard her after the fight that there will be no hiding that something 'unnatural' occurred.  Coupled with my" he paused and when he continued he sounded truly disgusted with himself "lapse during the battle.  Smyth is only the beginning.  It would be most unwise for me to return to the Dominant."_

_"Then why did ye stop Lt. Norrington from sending her te the bottom?" I grumbled – frustrated._

_He rested his head on his knee "His last wish was te take her back as a prize.  It seemed the least I could do, wise or not."_

_I studied the wood of the table "Ye can't know that ye'll be unwelcome aboard the Dominant."_

_"Mr. Gibbs – have I ever wronged you, in word or deed?"_

_"No" I allowed "ye've saved me life."_

_"I've never harmed you nor threatened to?"_

_"No."_

_"Then why is it taking every scrap of courage you posses to stay in the same room with me?" He continued inte me silence.  "Where you aware, Mr. Gibbs, that you are trembling?  Where you afraid of me a fortnight ago?"_

_"No."_

_"I was, I assure you, no different than I am now.  The difference is in your perception of me.  You have known for two years what I am not but until a few days ago it did not alarm you.  Do you know why?"_

_The glowing eyes measured me from the shadows.  "Because I live a lie with every breath, I carefully cultivate an image that conforms to your expectations.  But now the mask is torn and not just for you but for everyone aboard the Dominant.  You and your kind fear what you do not understand and what you fear you destroy.  We both know what kind of welcome I can expect aboard the Dominant."_

_"Yer supper's getting cold" I harrumphed gruffly.  And I had te admit that he was right "So ye'll be leaving when we reach __Port Royal__."_

_"Not directly, no."_

_"I thought ye just said only a fool would return te the Dominant" I was beginning to loose some of me fear te annoyance._

_"I never once claimed to be wise.  And I don't leave my friends to certain death.  So I'll be returning to the Dominant to tidy up a loose end."    _

_It hit me suddenly – he was going back te kill Cavendish.  He flipped the journal I hadn't noticed was open shut and tucked it in over his heart.  _

_"It is a precious thing, Mr. Gibbs to be accepted for what you are.  Friendship of that caliber" he reached out and grasped one of his boots revealing not the salt toughened hands I was accustomed te seeing but fine boned musicians fingers that were bedecked with rings. "is exceedingly rare."  He slid the first boot on and reached for the second. "Which is why Medwyn was so dear to me.  And why I reacted so terribly to his loss."  He turned te face me still shrouded in the shadows.  "You fear me, but for the memory of your Captain you've tried to aid me.  And I'm grateful.  But in the end Joshamee Gibbs all that matters is what you can do and what you can't do."  As he rose the faint gleam of silver and glint of rubies was replaced by the drab shades of coarse homespun so that by the time he was in the light I was looking at the same disguise I'd known for over two years.  The voice dropped as well and I finally realized why the higher voice was familiar – it matched his singing voice.  "Can you sail a bit longer in the company of an Ellyllon Prince or can you not?"_

_How do ye answer such a question?  Do ye call a…being that's saved yer life a monster te his face?  What an odd feeling te discover a creature out o children's stories and old wives tales living and breathing in front o ye.    But in the end it came down te the simple fact he'd done me no harm.  Done no one aboard the Dominant harm, at least not yet.  And I'd toast the man that slit Cavendish's throat.  More than that he was Sir Francis Drake – the Admiral that had stood between __England__ and the Armada, the pirate that had singed King Philip's beard, and the first captain te circumnavigate the world.  Who was I te call him a monster?_

_"I do believe I can.  Now eat yer ice cold supper."  I nodded and turned te go._

_"Gibbs" _

_I turned back and caught the object he'd tossed at me out o pure reflex.  I glanced down at the ruby ring and then back at Mallory._

_"Payment for services rendered.  While I doubt Smyth would have managed a killing blow – it's always best not to tempt fate.  You may inform Captain Remington that I will be up to stand watch presently."_

                "Do you expect us to believe that fairy tale, Mr. Gibbs?"  Governor Swan asked incredulously. 

Gibbs answer was to Jack "I'm not above embellishing a bit on the truth for the sake of a better tale, but I swear te ye Jack every word I've spoken is true."

"I believe ye.  It fits" was all Jack said before I felt his hands on my face again "Ye just stay with us, whelp and a bit o pixie dust will see ye well."

"He's not coming, Jack" Gibbs said wearily "if he taught ye aught o what he knew ye'd best try it."

"Ol' Jack's already done what he can, which is why the whelp's still with us."

Gibbs sighed "The rest o our voyage on the Gallant was peaceful enough though we never did make Port Royal…

_                "Sail ho!" Andrews' yell brought all of us scrambling from our various posts.  Mr. Remington was straining te make out her colors when Mallory pronounced "It's the Dominant."_

_Remington nodded curtly and ordered "Prepare to heave to and lay alongside."_

_'How in the name of God', I thought 'were the five of us to reset all the canvas Mallory'd crafted and manage te heave te?'_

_But the gale wind that had driven us for so long died.  The wind shifted so cleverly that we barely needed te touch the sails and we came alongside as neatly as if we'd had a full seasoned crew._

_If looks could kill Smyth murdered Mallory a dozen times during the maneuver. _

_I was surprised te see Norrington and Gillette coming over in heavily loaded ship's boats.  _

_"Mr. Remington" Norrington nodded, coolly polite but ye could see pride in his eyes "well done.  Mr. Gillette is to take the Dauntless the rest of the way into __Port Royal__ for a full refit.  You and your men are to return to the Dominant.  Mr. Adfyw you are to report to Commodore Howard immediately."_

_"Commodore Howard?__ Dauntless?" Remington asked as we clambered down into the Dominant's jolly boat._

_"In recognition of Captain Grey's courage his last prize has been christened the Dauntless.  Commodore Howard arrived a few days ago directly from the Admiralty aboard the Interceptor.  As it needed refitting and we were just finished with the Dominant he came aboard as Captain."_

_"And Captain Grey's replacement?"___

_"No word, yet" Norrington stared straight ahead.  There was no need te mention who was next in line for promotion._

_We received a cool reception, the tension among the crew was thick enough te restrict a man's breathing.  Mallory caught me eye as we came aboard and nodded in the direction o me cubby hole.  I should have figured he'd known about it._

_I settled meself in just as Mallory was announced._

_Mallory stopped stock still just inside the door "I thought I told you never to command a ship again."_

_Commodore Howard swallowed "I needed to speak with you."_

_"Really?"__ Mallory's hostility was a palatable presence in the cabin._

_Howard poured a second glass of pale green liquid "Why don't you joint me for a drink?"_

_"You know better than to treat me like a fool, Bledri.  What happened to the real Howard?"_

_I froze in my place – a second elf._

_Bledri sipped his pale liquor "He ate something that disagreed with him, permanently."_

_"Ah, did you poison the right man this time – or is the real **Captain** Howard going to show up in a few weeks?"_

_Bledri's__ pale blue eyes went cold "I have information you need."_

_"And for what price?"__  Mallory's smile was as cold as Bledri's eyes "Tell me how much am I worth these days?"_

_"Alive?  More than most mortal kings see in a lifetime.  You can't run forever lad."_

_"I don't have to run forever, just until the opportune moment."_

_"You always were such an optimist" Bledri scoffed._

_"And you were always incompetent" Mallory retorted. "What do you really want?"_

_"I want to see you – not the glamour – you."_

_Mallory frowned "Why?"_

_ "I'm to lure you into a trap."_

_"I had surmised that" Mallory returned while rolling his eyes.  "Tell me something I couldn't surmise the moment I sensed you were aboard."_

_"I'll give you the location of the ambush in return for dropping your glamour."_

_"And I'm to trust you?  The last time we met I had you cast into the sea in a lead-lined coffin.  I personally wouldn't be in a hurry to do me any favors."_

_"But you didn't leave me there."_

_"An act I'm beginning to regret.  And I seem to recall promising you something worse should you ever again impersonate a sea captain."_

_Bledri shifted nervously "Actually it was if I ever impersonated **you** as a sea captain again."_

_Mallory snarled "I don't seem to recall that caveat."_

_Bledri frowned "But it was your reputation you were angry about, it couldn't have possibly been the men."_

_Mallory crossed the cabin so quickly I never even saw him move "I may kill men, I may send them to their deaths in battle but I don't waste them in the **thousands** by bloody gross **incompetence**."_

_Sweat broke out on Bledri's forehead and he squirmed under Mallory's glare "What was I to do when __Eliza__beth__ ordered me to sail?"_

_"Bloody remind her that you weren't me!  You were to impersonate Drake ashore so that I was free to attend to other matters not get some feather-brained notion that you actually know how to run a ship or can command a fleet" Mallory hissed back._

_Bledri sank further down into his chair "You may have been able to stand down Glorianna in one of her rages but the rest of us were less fortunate."_

_"And how hard did you try?  Or were you too busy day dreaming about glory to even think?"_

_"Why do you even care?  They were __Eliza__beth__'s subjects not yours.  It was her right to spend them as she saw fit." Bledri fired back._

_"Because the two of you used the reputation I won at __Cadiz__ and against the Armada to man those ships!"_

_"So it was your pride."_

_Mallory curled one hand into a fist "I never minded when you made a buffoon of Drake in __Plymouth__ or even at court but those men expected to be led by Drake.  They signed on to serve under a Captain that knew both the Sea and military matters.  And they died in my name under an elf that didn't know a halyard from an anchor!"  He hit the desk hard enough that the wood groaned in protest._

_Bledri flinched but rebutted "Drake isn't **your** name anymore than Mallory Adfyw is, or Draco, or any one of two dozen others you've won fame and renown under."  His voice softened becoming almost pitying "I think lad that you've spent so much of your life hiding **what** you are here in the Outlands that you don't even know **who** you are."_

_"I don't recall asking your opinion on the matter" Mallory said coolly while still leaning far into Bledri's personal space.  His anger was plain in every line of his body. _

_Bledri leaned back in his seat "I suppose not, you always did keep your own counsel.  What will you do with me?"_

_Mallory rocked back off of the desk and appraised Bledri with narrowed eyes "I ought to let you make a fool of yourself and then give you to the crew."_

_Bledri blanched "You wouldn't."_

_Mallory flipped a wrist and suddenly Captain Howard vanished te be replaced by someone else.  Truth told if it wasn't for the pointed ears, pale green hair, and blue cat's eyes ye'd never know he wasn't human._

_"Try me."_

_"Please, this crew is already primed to rip someone apart" Bledri's voice was near the edge of panic._

_"Do tell" Mallory mocked back._

_"What do you want?"  he was having trouble breathing._

_"The truth, Bledri, or the crew" Mallory studied his fingers with detached nonchalance._

_"I haven't betrayed you" he pled._

_"I know you haven't – I would never place enough trust in you for betrayal." He fussed with his sleeve "Cavendish isn't terribly creative – but he makes up for it in enthusiasm.  Shall I call him?"  Suddenly Mallory's appearance shifted te that o Captain Howard._

_"**NO!** I – **He** thinks I'm working for **Him**."_

_"You're not?" Mallory as Captain Howard inquired politely. "And kindly remove yourself from behind my desk."_

_Bledri snarled "I'd never work for **Him.  NEVER!" **the last word was roared._

_"I wouldn't be too sure of that" Mallory replied calmly but with another flip of the wrist Mallory was Mallory and Bledri was Captain Howard._

_Bledri drew several deep breaths "Then you won't give me to the crew?"_

_"I'm willing to let you give me an excuse not to" Mallory allowed "You have to know you can't win, if you aid me you'll wish you died.  If you help **Him** capture me" Mallory shrugged "I doubt very much that you'll live long enough to enjoy the reward."_

_Bledri spread his still shaking hands "I served your grandfather, I was raised with your father, and I served you for forty years.  I know which Penthalion I want to win."_

_Mallory arched a brow "Why, Bledri, was that a compliment?"  
"Take it as you like, lad, but you're the best of a bad lot."_

_Mallory's voice chilled "It's Prince, Bledri.  You claimed you had information?"_

_"Your glamour first."___

_"I could force you to tell me."_

_"You could, but you won't" Bledri met Mallory's eyes "You were always a killer, but you were never a tyrant."_

_Mallory sniffed disparagingly "Well, won't that look lovely on my sepulcher.  Why?"_

_Bledri studied the desk "Because I need to know if the rumors from Avalon are true."_

_"I must confess, I'm curious what **is** being said?"  
"That you're dead."_

_"I rather think we can safely discount that one."_

_"That you've been driven mad."_

_"Possibly, I'll have to get back to you."_

_"That you've lost your nerve."_

_Mallory growled deep in his throat._

_"That you were maimed in body and enaid."_

_"I'm well enough for anything you have in mind."_

_"Ah-ha, how badly?"___

_"That is not your concern."_

_"Are you still the assassin that you once were?"_

_"It's been awhile, but we both know I've never missed a mark.  Name your target."_

_"The King of Avalon."___

_Mallory straightened all pretence of disinterest abandoned "The King is in the Citadel – I've already failed against its walls."_

_"But your father is going to leave the Citadel soon."_

_"**He** never leaves" Mallory scoffed._

_"I don't think you understand just what your escape means in Avalon.  Or what your father is willing to do to recapture you."_

_"Where" Mallory demanded "When."___

_Bledri just leaned back with a look of triumph._

_There was no magical shimmer, no warning, Mallory was simply replaced by a figure in gleaming silver.  Me first thought was – he fights in that?  Me second was – how much is that outfit worth?  It looked hellishly uncomfortable, with all the brocade and lace not te mention that there were more jewels on a single sleeve then I'd ever seen in one place.  It took me a moment te tear me greedy eyes from the garb te see the elf.  A comely enough lad – maybe too fair, he was more than a bit o a pretty boy.  Looking at the face I'd have said he wasn't a day over fourteen – until ye looked inte those eyes.  They were still the greenest ye ever saw but the pupils weren't round but long and slit like a cat's.  But it wasn't that that made them so frightening.  No fourteen year old boy ever had eyes that hard, that old.  I couldn't look inte those eyes so I let me gaze wander up further.  The Crown Prince o Avalon, Grey had said and he was indeed wearing one.  Like everything else about him it was an ornate confection of silver, pearls, and rubies.  _

_Me__ gaze flickered back te Bledri as he began te curse long and angrily in what had te be fairy talk.  _

_I settled for watching Mallory's eyebrows which by the end of the diatribe were in serious danger of joining his hairline.  He actually applauded when Bledri finally wound down._

_"I'm impressed" there wasn't a trace o sarcasm in his tone "I rather feel as if I should have been taking notes."_

_"Damn it!" this time it was Bledri who hit the desk. "How can ye bloody sit there and" he waved te the drink Mallory still hadn't touched. "If anyone should need a drink, lad"_

_"Prince" Mallory broke in "And I prefer facing my troubles to drowning them.  I've met your condition – now when and where."_

_Bledri shook his head "Forget it.  It was a fool's hope anyway.  Adfyw – half-living, you always were an optimist."_

_"It's not as bad as it looks" Mallory replied "When and where?"_

_Bledri just blinked at him for several breaths "You can't be serious.  You're not fit for a stroll across the park much less" Bledri downed his own drink in a single gulp and poured himself another.  _

_"I'll be the judge of what I am and am not fit for" those hard eyes were beginning to grow angry again "I am **still** the Etifedd chan Mor a Tanio."_

_Bledri__ looked up stunned "You're serious."_

_Mallory gave a half-bow and sent a flight o tiny fire dragons winging around the cabin._

_"Well, it's a comfort that the most powerful Ellyllon ever born is still capable of children's tricks."  For being a trembling wreck a few minutes ago Bledri had certainly regained his confidence quickly.  But I noticed how he watched Mallory like a hawk and his fingers fluttered nervously.  _

_Mallory put his hands together like a priest about to give a benediction and rested his chin on his finger tips "I am still capable of far more than children's tricks" both words and eyes made a chilling promise "I am as able as I ever was with Wind, Water, Fire, or Shadow.  Make any test of me you like Bledri, and you will find me equal to the challenge."_

_"And Earth?"__  
Mallory shrugged "Earth was never my strength."  Those green eyes lost some of their intensity for the first time since he'd walked in "Something had to give."_

_Bledri visibly relaxed "You always were a marvel."  He poured himself another drink._

_"When and where?"_

_Bledri shook his head "It can't be done lad"_

_"Prince" Mallory corrected_

_Bledri continued, having paused perfectly for Mallory's correction "As you once were you might, **might** have been able to succeed."_

_"I've done tolerably well against everything **He's **thrown at me since my escape" Mallory observed "What makes you so sure that I can't handle this?"_

_"This is no mere raiding party you'll have to get through – **He'll** have all but emptied the Citadel.  You look me in the eye and tell me you can do it."_

_"Nothing is impossible" Mallory sagged in the chair.  "But I am not what I once was."  Oh, but it cost him te admit it.  "You do realize that if I'm not captured your life is forfeit?"_

_"I'd rather hoped to live to see you take the throne you were bred for" he played with the glass before him "but nothing escapes **Him** unscathed." He tried te smile and failed "At least I'll go to my grave knowing you're still free." He passed a slip o paper across the table "Here's what I know.  Take it and go, this ship isn't safe.  Dragon's teeth, lad, what were you thinking?  You used to be the personification of discretion."  He shook his head "I should have known something was seriously amiss just from that."_

_I lost track o what Bledri was nattering on about as I watched the blood drain from Mallory's face.  I'd never seen a man go so pale that his lips went blue.  The paper crumpled as his hands balled inte fists.  He looked positively ill.  _

_"Lad?" apparently Bledri had stopped his rambling and noticed Mallory's quiet distress "What is it?"    _

_"I am the sole reason for this expedition?" Mallory demanded._

_"What else would get the old clobyn out of the Citadel?"_

_Mallory rose te pace the confines o the cabin, clearly thinking furiously and sending flashes of red and silver dancing around the walls. "Is there any way to change the location?"_

_"Where is it?"  
Mallory paused in his pacing te roll his eyes "You've had the bearings for weeks."_

_"You know I can't navigate.  I assumed you would handle that and the ship."_

_He chuckled "Only you, Bledri, would rely on the quarry to lead the hunter to the trap.  The __Azores__ are our destination" the amusement fled "and there is someone there **He** must **not** find." _

_"I doubt very much **He'll** be touring the countryside as it were."_

_"Blood calls to blood" Mallory whispered "**He** won't be able to miss him."_

_Bledri's__ eyes went round in surprise "Now that is news."  He grinned wolfishly "So you've a plentyn a gordderch in the __Azores__ have you?  And here we feared you'd spent so much time with the Virgin Queen you were going to follow her example."_

_"Plentyn a gordderch?__  I'm not familiar with the phrase" Mallory said distractedly as he folded his arms across his chest still clearly preoccupied._

_"Damn, lad, but we short changed your worldly education – a bit on the side and a by blow." He leered "She must be a pretty little thing…"_

_That got Mallory's attention instantly "Your salacious intrusion into my personal affairs is both unwelcome and unwarranted, Alltude." _

_ I hadn't considered the tone particularly threatening o course I wasn't an elf and hadn't served the family for three generations.  Bledri went pale and bowed, face to the floor, trembling "Your pardon, milord, I intended no offense."  _

_I found meself holding me own breath wondering what was about te happen but Mallory waved Bledri back te his seat._

_"Blood calls to blood, blood covers blood" Mallory mused._

_Bledri drew in a sharp breath "What are you planning, milord?"_

_"The Blood of Avalon flows unsullied in my veins, Adarrto's is mingled.  If mine is poured out its cry will cover Adarrto's, even if **He **still goes to the __Azores__, afterward."_

_"Aberath?__  Dragon's teeth, lad, it's not so desperate as all that.  There's time enough for you to fly to the __Azores__ and get the boy out before the host arrives."_

_Mallory just shook his head "It isn't that simple."_

_"Your pardon, I should have known you couldn't fly anymore."_

_"I'm perfectly capable of flight" Mallory snapped back "I told you any test you cared to make of Wind, Water, Fire, or Shadow – I meant it."  He pinched the bridge of his nose "But the situation is … complicated."_

_"Complicated enough that you'd even briefly entertain aberath?  Leave the bitch and the brat to your father and get another.  It's easier." He trailed off at the end to stare at the desk._

_"Really?"__ Mallory grasped Bledri's chin and all but forced him te meet his eyes "Then why don't you have any more children?"_

_"Damn you" Bledri whispered back._

_"You'll have your chance.  The only way to ensure that **He **doesn't find Adarrto is aberath."_

_"You'd actually give up your life for some little bastard?"_

_"Adfyw" Mallory rebutted "Only half a life."  He appealed "If you'd been given the choice, Bledri, would you have left your children to **Him** when you were exiled?  What would you have risked for them if you had known their fates?"_

_"Your life isn't your own" Bledri retorted "You are the only surviving Prince of Avalon."_

_"Then let **Him** get another" Mallory growled and continued his appeal "I'd have thought you would have leapt at this opportunity, Bledri.  I'm giving you a carte blanch chance at vengeance. The grandson of the King that exiled you to live among humans, the son of the King who slaughtered your children to destroy in any manner that pleases you with the added bonus getting back your pound of flesh for every insult and slight I've ever dealt you."_

_"There was a time, lad, when having any Penthalion sprawled at my feet would have seemed better than the human's hope of heaven but you're not the Penthalion I want to see bleed."  Bledri frowned "Besides your own father's already done more harm to you where it truly counts then I could ever inflict.  I won't be party to your death."_

_"You always were a coward" Mallory sneered "Just as well that Cavendish and the crew aren't so squeamish."_

_"Aberath requires a witness if not a protagonist.  And I don't see any others on this ship of our kind." Bledri countered as Mallory turned to the door.  "Pa un draig dichlyn chwi?" He asked._

_"Nimrais" Mallory answered without turning._

_"Mallory – ill-fated, you always did have an overdeveloped sense of irony" Bledri sighed._

_Mallory turned back "Cavendish and the crew are likely to be a mercy."_

_"Aberath won't hide the boy forever." _

_"It doesn't need to last forever, just long enough for Adarrto to regain the __Pearl__."_

_"What do pearls have to do with anything?  And what possessed you to name your son sparrow?"_

"It can't be, Gibbs" Jack denied, "We don't look a thing alike."

Gibbs laughed grimly "Aye, well the real Mallory doesn't look a bit like the glamour, either.  Peas in a pod Jack, I thought I was seeing a ghost the day I met ye.  Then ye said yer name and I knew who ye were.  That's why I went along with that first scheme o yers.  I thought it was the least I could do after I stood aside and watched yer father die."  Gibbs sighed "Why do ye think ye always know when a storm's a-coming long afore the first cloud appears Jack?  Ye've fairy blood in yer veins, the blood o Avalon."

"Why didn't he ever tell me" Jack protested, sounding nearly as bad as I felt.  "Damn it all, why didn't he ever bleeding tell me?"

Odd – if Mallory was truly dead, then so was I, probably in agony.  I would be leaving Elizabeth behind.  I would never get to know my father.  But it was Jack I felt badly for at this particular moment.  I know first hand the guilt of believing you've killed your father.  In the fight on Isla de Muerta three years ago I hadn't had time to think about what breaking the curse would mean to my father.  All my thoughts were for Elizabeth, Jack and all the men aboard the Dauntless.  I'd had plenty of time to consider it afterward.  If my father had still been strapped to the cannon nine and a half years later – then I had done him a favor.  My head knew I had nothing to be guilty for because one way or the other I'd set my father free but that didn't stop my heart from weeping.   I realized I'd been lucky.  I may not have known my father but there had been no unresolved wrong between us either.  It was a might have been.  I wanted Mallory to be alive for Jack every bit as much as for myself.  I felt my father's rough hand take mine.  I forced my eyes open to meet his.

"Don't fret, Will.  We've a howling stern wind and a still sea – he's coming." 

 Jack glanced at the sails and the sea.  "The sea **is **awfully calm, Gibbs for this much wind.  And the wind feels, different."

Gibbs looked about "Just like the Gallant, true enough, but I saw what I saw Jack."

Jack closed his eyes "Finish it, Gibbs."

_"I've told you once today Bledri not to trample where angels should fear to tread."_

_"Your pardon, milord" he replied before rummaging in a chest.  He tossed Mallory some clothes which Mallory held at arms length with distaste._

_"What am I to do with these, these things?"_

_"They're clothes" Bledri said slowly "you wear them." _

_The glare Mallory leveled at Bledri was murderous but Bledri never flinched.  Apparently he knew the difference between bluster and true menace. _

_"I wouldn't be caught dead in…these."_

_Bledri chuckled "Dragon's breath but you always were a peacock.  I swear I'll bury you in your own clothes but if you're going to go out there and get yourself flogged to death you can't do it in court garb."_

_Mallory shrugged, with difficulty, out of his doublet revealing surprisingly wide shoulders for the rest o him.  Bledri hadn't appeared particularly disproportionate so Mallory must actually have a good bit more growing te do.  He finished striping and dressed quickly in garments more in keeping with a deck hand.  I had te bite me hand te keep from laughing at his expression – he had the same disgusted look as a drenched cat.  He fussed a moment picking at things before sighing in resignation.  _

_"Whatever else happens – I'm taking Cavendish with me" he informed Bledri.  "And Norrington is to become Captain."_

_"Still watching over the White Rose are we?  You're the only one alive that remembers."_

_"I wasn't aware that promises carry a statue of limitations" was Mallory's testy reply "**and** he will make a very **good** Captain.  Rely on him to get the Dominant back to __Port Royal__ and then for goodness sake **stop** playing at being Captain yourself."  He tugged at the sleeve and brushed at the fabric "and make sure Remington doesn't get himself killed trying to save me."  He started to tuck the journal into his new shirt's front._

_"Leave that with me" Bledri said._

_Mallory stopped mid-motion and bit his lip._

_"You don't want them to find it."_

_"They won't – I'll wrap it in Shadow."_

_"You'll trust me with your death, but not with your damn diary?" Bledri sounded incredulous._

_"It goes with me."_

_"Fine – I'll give you back to your beloved sea, with your journal, in your own clothes.  Are you happy?"_

_"Of course not" Mallory rejoined "I'm about to walk into the lions' den having abjured every weapon I possess and offer myself as a snack.  What a bloody stupid question!"_

_ "You don't have to do this.  Just fly."_

_"Yes, I do.  No offense, Bledri, but I don't want to become you - better to burn out than to fade away."  
 "You never drank your drink.  Damn it lad, you're going out there to dance with death –does it matter?"_

_"Did it matter then?"_

_Bledri grabbed Mallory's shoulder looking very much for a moment like he meant te shake him "That was never **your** fault."_

_"Then whose was it?"_

_"His own – and you've a sharp enough mind to know it, if you'll stop being guilt ridden long enough to listen."_

_Mallory ripped himself free of Bledri, picked up the glass, and upended it pouring the green liquid onte the boards before walking out._

_"You always did take too much to heart" Bledri groaned before draining the bottle._

_                I left me cubby hole intent on following Mallory who'd reestablished his glamour as he stepped out o the cabin.  I was far enough away that I missed he and Cavendish's first exchange.  I didn't miss the result as Cavendish slammed him against a bulkhead._

_"I'll have ye at the gratings for that, wretch."_

_"I'd be very disappointed if ye didn't" Mallory observed wryly._

_"And none o yer insolence.  Captain Grey ain't here te protect ye any longer."_

_Mallory just rolled his eyes and then rolled with Cavendish's backhand letting it send him rebounding off the bulkhead again._

_"All hands te witness punishment" Cavendish roared shoving Mallory before him. _

_Norrington__ arrived just as they were securing his wrists._

_"What is the meaning of this?"_

_"Just punishing a hand, Lieutenant.  No need for you te concern yerself."  Norrington turned to Mallory with eyes full of questions.  Mallory gave the slightest shake of his head.  Norrington gave an equally slight nod but he was still clearly uncomfortable.  He turned and move quickly toward the Captain's cabin._

_Cavendish laughed "Mr. Stickler has the notion that if he tattles te the new Captain he'll save ye.  But I've taken the new Captain's measure.  Doesn't give a rot about the ship, doesn't give a damn about the men, could care less about Queen and country, all the Captain wants is te be left in peace with his absinthe.  And as long as I run the ship so he can spend time with his one true love he'll give me a free hand.  I've waited a long time te hear ye scream."_

_"You're not going to live that long."_

_"Ye're not cheating me o flogging ye."_

_"Wouldn't dream of it."___

_Cavendish frowned suddenly uncertain but he quickly covered it with bravado "Ye're mad – but I'll still be ye're worst nightmare."_

_Mallory outright laughed "O Lieutenant you have no idea what dwells in my nightmares."_

_Cavendish uncoiled the cat and passed it te the boson. _

_"Here comes Stickler now – I'm going te send ye te Hell.  But don't worry I'll be sending ye company soon enough."_

_"Is there a problem?" Captain Howard inquired._

_"No, sir, just curbing a bit o insolence."_

_"Very good, carry on.  We must maintain discipline." _

_"How many lashes, sir?" the boson inquired in resignation._

_"A thousand" Cavendish replied._

_"A thousand?" the boson stuttered as he stepped forward te put the piece o leather in Mallory's mouth._

_"They'll be no need for that" Mallory and Cavendish said simultaneously. _

_"Yer brave now, but it won't last.  I'm going te enjoy this."_

_"You need a hobby" Mallory quipped back "and better dialogue.  I'd complain to the author if I were you."_

_Cavendish nodded te the boson and the drummer beat the first note.  Norrington caught young Remington just as the cat landed for the first time.  _

_"Stop this" the boy hissed te Norrington.  _

_"I've tried" Norrington whispered back._

_"**He'd** have found a way" Remington shrugged free to watch as the first blood started te trickle down Mallory's back._

"I'd never been witness te such a flogging and I hope I never am again.  O course at a thousand stripes ye'd be flogging a corpse if..." he shuddered.

"He was still alive after a thousand lashes?" Governor Swann sounded horrified.

"Aye, he was alive…

_The deck was awash in blood, but the figure at the grating kept on breathing.  The silence was eerie.  No moans, groans, or screams, just the faint steady sound of breath entering and leaving the lungs came from the condemned.   The crack of the cat, the beat of the drum, and the count proceeded with a numbing monotony.  _

_"998, 999, 1000."___

_Norrington__ all but ran te the grating.  "I'll have you loose in a moment. Dr. Alexander, bandages and rum. Half and half. NOW!"_

_"There's no need for the surgeon" Mallory said thinly as he straightened up from the grate "and certainly none for the rum."_

_Norrington__ tried to support Mallory but he shrugged him off and straightened up on his own._

_"We'll get you below and see to your wounds."_

_"No" Mallory stepped clear with a surprising amount o grace._

_"Come now, Lt. Norrington, if the man says he doesn't need assistance then it's time for his watch" for a man who'd just gotten something he'd been wanting for over two years Cavendish looked damn sour._

_"You can't expect" Norrington began with restrained anger in his tone and manner._

_Mallory wrapped one bloodied hand around Norrington's "I am perfectly capable of standing my watch."_

_"Well, then step to it man, up in the rigging with ye" Cavendish admonished "Or are ye all bluster?"_

_I winced as Mallory left more blood on the deck by giving Cavendish a sweeping bow "I see you still haven't convinced the author to give you better dialogue.  No matter, you shan't be with us much longer."_

_Cavendish's hand squelched into the tatters of Mallory's back but Mallory had clearly anticipated the action and didn't stumble "You're boring me.  Try to do a bit better."_

_"Watch on watch" Cavendish snapped "thirty-six hours."_

_Mallory wrapped one hand around a rope and swung up inte the rigging._

"We never did get it all out" Gibbs muttered "Not out o the boards, not out o the rigging.  Every drop of blood was its own bit o shame.  Then there were Cavendish's men who made it a point te take their pound o flesh.  Remington and Norrington did what they could about that when Cavendish wasn't about te gloat but he took another beating in the rigging.  And then it all mercifully ended…

_I was surprised te see Captain Howard up on deck.  He'd been drinking himself insensible in his cabin since the second stroke hit Mallory's back.  He swayed on his feet as he watched Mallory furl a sail.  Or not furl a sail actually.  Three of Cavendish's men were undoing his work faster than he could keep up.  Which was of course the point since the sail didn't need furling in the first place._

_"Isn't it time for that man's" Howard waved vaguely in Mallory's direction "watch to be over?"_

_"Aye, sir" Cavendish replied with that ingratiating respect he reserved for any superior officer._

_"Then call him down"_

_"Aye, sir" he nodded to another of his cronies "Fetch him down."_

_The man leapt up the rigging with a grin._

_Mallory came down the rigging at a lubber's pace, nearly falling as he swung onte the deck.  He kept his left hand curled around the ropes, spent.  _

_"No so brazen now are you?" Cavendish crowed as he swaggered over._

_"Has anyone ever told you that you are terribly predictable?" Mallory asked as he raised his head._

_Cavendish backhanded him again and he crumpled._

_"Did you predict this?" Cavendish asked as he kicked him several times.  He went utterly limp after a particularly nasty kick te the head.  As Cavendish bent over him he received a backhand o his own._

_"It's death te strike a superior officer, Stickler, and ye know it."_

_Norrington__ was nearly spitting with fury "You are neither an officer nor my superior and I was challenging you to a duel."_

_"A duel, Stickler?__  Pistols at sunrise? Swords at dawn?  How quaint" there was the distinct crack of a pistol shot and Norrington's eyes widened.  "I win."  Cavendish smiled as Norrington sank te the boards with his hand pressed te his stomach.  He swayed on his knees coughing blood as Mallory stirred.  Cavendish pulled Mallory up "Did ye predict that? Yer pet midshipman will be joining the two o ye soon enough."  _

_Mallory sagged in Cavendish's grip for a fraction of an instant and then uncoiled so swiftly me eyes couldn't follow the motion.  Cavendish just fell backward with the look o triumph still on his face.  Mallory put a hand over Norrington's and looked him in the eyes._

**_"Stay down."  _**_He commanded in a tone that made me want te hit the deck meself._

_  Norrington stayed on his knees staring at his bloody uniform and the unmarked skin underneath._

_Smyth pointed "I told, ye.  I told, ye.  He's in bloody league with the Devil.  He'll send us all te the Davey Jones Locker!"_

_Mallory had te use the rail te get te his feet.  He took a half dozen unsteady steps te the right, putting some distance between himself and Norrington before turning te the crew and dropping his glamour.  I'd seen dogs go mad from hunger and savage o their number that had been injured.  I'd heard tell that men do the same but I'd never wanted te see it.   Young Remington went mad in me arms trying te reach him.  I finally had te knock the lad unconscious te keep him safe.  After moments or eternity I don't know which Captain Howard fired a pistol inte the air.  Some o the crew stopped instantly and had the decency te look ashamed.  Some had te be drug away by their betters._

_"All crew below decks" Howard ordered "NOW!"_

_The men shuffled off leaving Norrington, Howard, Remington, Mallory, and I.  _

_Howard nodded te Cavendish "Get that filth off of my deck, Mr. Gibbs." _

_"Aye sir" I set poor little Remington down on the deck as gently as I could, stepped around the dazed Norrington and shoved Cavendish unceremoniously inte the sea.  It was then I noticed a thin whistly sound.  Howard and I's eyes met as we realized what it was, still alive.  Mallory was still alive._

_Howard closed his eyes and cursed.  He pulled a second pistol and shot him.  The whistly sound stopped. _

_"Fetch me something te weigh him with, Mr. Gibbs."_

_I nodded, casting me eyes about the deck as Howard was replaced by Bledri.  Norrington's eyes nearly bulged out o his head before his ingrained reserve managed to restore itself.  He rose unsteady te his feet te stand over Bledri who'd gathered Mallory inte his lap.  _

_"I don't know if you can still hear me or not lad but it wouldn't surprise me if you could.  I didn't do this for your bastard." He stroked the bloodied head "No little gordderch could be worth a tithe much less half of you.  Some of this is my fault, lad, and I'm sorry for it.  You really were magnificent, you know.  You made all of __Europe__ dance to your tune.  And we Exiles couldn't wait for your defod.  We had ourselves so convinced that you'd set everything wrong in Avalon right.  But we forgot you were still just a boy and we sent you unwarned into a wolf's den and it ripped you apart.  What you didn't know lad was your father didn't kill all of my children.  He did to my eldest what he did to you and then he sent him to me.  And in the end he begged me to kill him.  You weren't to the point of begging yet lad.  Better that you die now.  It's better this way.  It is."  He ripped the tattered remnants of homespun cotton off Mallory and started to lay him out still talking.  "I never dreamed lad that I'd be the one to give you a mercy stroke.  Never thought I'd grieve over a Penthalion."  He tucked the journal into his doublet and belted his sword and dagger back around his waist. "I should put into shore and bury you on land to be absolutely sure of you.  But I won't put you under Earth.  You always did belong on and with your beloved sea."  He closed the eyes "Hwyll, Ariel ap Auberon of the House Penthalion Prince of Avalon."  He looked up at Norrington "I'm putting you and the boy off in one of the ship's boats.  It's already been provisioned."_

_Norrington__ straightened stiffly "It is my place to remain with the ship."_

_"You don't want to stay aboard this ship, Lt." Bledri laid Mallory gently down and rose.  "No one who had a part in killing my Prince will be leaving this ship alive. This is a ghost ship and its crew are dead men walking. You and the boy tried to save him." He pulled another pistol free o his belt.  "He isn't here to save you this time, dynol.  Don't make me kill what he tried to save.  Get to the boat."_

_I laid a length o chain and a pair of cannonballs at his feet.  He gestured with the pistol "Give Mr. Gibbs a hand a seeing him over the side."_

_I wrapped the chain and balls around his chest and then grabbed his shoulders and then nearly dropped him in horror.  He was more like a sack o meal than a man his bones had been broken so many times that he sagged in me arms.  His head just lolled and as I took a better grip I felt it – the thready whisper of a pulse.  Norrington had already reached the rail when I felt a second sluggish, weak throb.  Just as I was about te speak Norrington let his feet over the side and he slipped through me fingers inte the dark sea below._

Gibbs just starred into space "I sent him over the side alive.  And now ye've heard it all Jack."  He straightened "And if ye've a mind te do the same te me I've naught te say against ye."

Jack rolled his empty bottle of rum in his hands before answering "Ye said he gave ye a ring.  I'd like to have it, if I may."

"I don't have it anymore, Jack.  I used it te bribe the guards that time in Maricibo.  Seemed the right te use yer father's ring te buy ye free."

Jack flipped his compass open "He can't be dead."

"Would yer compass know the difference between and living elf and a corpse on the bottom?" Gibbs asked "I want him te be alive too Jack, but he was.  He couldn't have swum the way he was even if he wasn't weighted."

My father wrapped a hand around Gibb's shoulder "If ye sent him inte the sea alive than ye did the best thing for him.  The sea takes care o Mallory.  I've seen it.  The compass might not know the difference but a dead elf couldn't turn the wind and sea in our favor."

****


	3. Turner's Tale

Author's note: Thank you to all my reviewers!  My apologies to you for last time but I was in such a rush to get the chapter posted that I forgot.  Bad author – no rum! 

Historical note 1: I envision both the Pearl and the Peregrine as being essentially Clipper ships.  In the early 1700's ships of the line like the Dauntless and most merchant vessels cruised at an average of oh about 3 mph.  On a **really** good day they **might** manage 120 miles.  The norm would be well under a hundred.  The Clipper record stands at 436 miles in a single day (18mph) and is my rule of thumb for the Pearl and the Peregrine when Mallory isn't giving them any "help".   Of course the earliest Clippers didn't make their appearance until the 1800's making Mallory over a century ahead of his time J

A brig like the Interceptor would have probably managed to double the Dauntless' speed making it seem fast until pitted against a Clipper.

Historical note 2: By the late 1500's the Spanish had largely destroyed the native population of Hispaniola (currently Haiti & Santa Domingo).  Large herds of escaped cattle and hogs roamed the island and by the early 1600's Hispaniola had become the place for escaping indentured servants and various other "masterless" men.  They lived off the cattle herds drying the meat into boucan hence the men became boucaniers.   Given that most of these men were of Protestant origin raiding the neighboring Spanish colonies rapidly became a favored pastime.  They established Tortuga in about 1630.  The desperate Spanish, unable to kill the men started slaughtering the cattle.  This of course led to large numbers of these lawless men abandoning Hispaniola and becoming buccaneers as a full time occupation.  A remnant remained on Hispaniola providing hides and meat for decades to their sea going brethren.  Spending most of the year in the hinterlands and coming down on occasion to trade for rum.   Blood of Avalon Chapter 3: Turner's Tale 

Jack's eyes narrowed "I don't ever recall ye being overly familiar with Mallory, Bill."

My father shifted nervously as all eyes focused on him.  He ducked his head – clearly not enjoying suddenly being the center of attention.

"It was after the mutiny.  Mallory was the one who cut me free o the cannon after Barbossa sent me to the bottom…__

_                Dark.  So dark.  So still.  Nothing te do here in the dark but think.  About Kitty.  About Will. About Jack.  About how I'd failed them all.  Any thought o Jack o course led te thoughts o Barbossa and the curse.  I struggled again against the straps that held me in my watery grave.  There was no way te know how long I'd been here.  No night, no day in the absolute black of Davey Jones Locker.    No moon light reached this depth to set me free.  I wondered how long I'd be trapped down here.  I'd been strapped te the cannon in the moonlight, the bonds twined around my bare bones so that as I sank inte the depths me own flesh bound me even more firmly te the weight dragging me ever further down.  How long until the leather rotted and gave way?  Longer than me sanity would hold.  How long until the curse was broken?  Would Barbossa sail te __England__ for the piece I'd sent Will?  I cursed meself for a fool.  I remembered the fear in Jack's voice when we marooned him and me own inability te meet his eyes, ashamed o me own part in the mutiny.  But he'd been marooned not killed – that had been the price o me involvement.  The price o me soul.  But I'd received me thirty pieces o silver too, in the form of cursed Aztec gold._

_It had looked like a bloody fortune when we put inte Maricibo te celebrate.  I'd had all the good intentions in the world o shipping it home te Kitty and Will.  But Jack's eyes haunted me so I had a drink te drown 'em.  But one drink wasn't enough and by the time I was sober again I'd only a single coin.  Just one left te send te me wife and son.  One bit o shine te show for a shattered friendship and broken vows.  _

_                A fortnight after I sent off that coin was the first time we turned inte skeletons in the moonlight.  Oh, I'd been bold in front o Barbossa and his men once I'd realized me fate.  I'd ranted and raved that I sent the coin off because I believed we deserved te be cursed and remain cursed.  Which was true enough but when I sent the coin off I hadn't a clue yet that we were cursed.  I never would have knowingly sent it te Will.  _

_                O course the real reason I was down here had very little te do with the coin and everything te do with power.  How do ye threaten a crew that can't feel and can't die?  Barbossa, an admittedly clever chap, found a way – eternal imprisonment.  Then he chose a victim.  Who else but the odd man out?  I was part o Jack's crew.  It was no secret I wasn't happy about the mutiny, wasn't happy about Barbossa's easy killing and disregard o the Code.  I tugged again.  Mr. Mallory had spoiled me.  Mr. Mallory – yet another man I'd failed.  Not many legitimate sea captains would have taken in a hunted fugitive.  O course __Pearl__ didn't stay a legitimate ship for very long – and Mr. Mallory as the mate was suspiciously well versed in the art o piracy.   But he never let the crew get out o hand, never killed if it could be helped, and clung te the Code like a barnacle.  Mr. Mallory could take care o himself.  But Jack, and Will, and Kitty?  O God what had I done te Will and Kitty?  I fought madly against me bonds until I hung exhausted.  The thought o Barbossa's crew anywhere near me beautiful Kitty was enough te make me want te howl in frustration.   And Will, me little son.  Ten years old – had I been on the run that long?  He'd just been toddling when I'd left.  I wouldn't even know the lad now.  Me regrets were like ashes in me mouth.  A few of the strange luminous fish that were me only company swam closer, attracted by me struggles.  Damn ugly.  They scuttled away taking me only light with them.  Something brushed against me ankle and I froze.  Hands?  Who?  I had no friends among Barbossa's crew and no one else could reach me in this crushing black oblivion.  One leg drifted free o the cannon the leather straps severed.  This was a dream – I'd gone mad.  It couldn't be anything else.  Suddenly the other leg was free and a hand wrapped around me still bound arms and we shot upward._

_                As we breached the surface me rescuer gasped desperately.  Not one o Barbossa's then.  The bonds on me arms were cut and me benefactor started swimming for the boat just a few yards away.  _

_I glanced up at the figurehead – a diving falcon, a peregrine.  I knew who now.  It was common knowledge that Mr. Mallory had another vessel that in the words o one o the older hands who'd seen it was 'too much te be a boat but not enough te be a ship'.  I quickly climbed aboard.  Just as I cleared the rail what had been a calm night turned inte a bloody gale and the Peregrine leapt forward with all the speed of its namesake.  The wind shredded the clouds away from the moon leaving me exposed on the deck in all me skeletal horror. _

_"You've the night watch.  Call me if you see sail.  The wheel's set and there's no need to alter course."  I watched him turn and disappear below before raising a hand before me face.  Yep, still cursed, still skeletal and Mr. Mallory hadn't even batted an eye._

_                Sparrow had claimed that he and Mallory had built the __Pearl__ themselves.  I'd been more than a bit skeptical – especially considering the source – but it was clear the same master had built both ships.  He liked them long and lean, almost too lean – he was sacrificing hold space for speed.  Both ships would need te carry high priced merchandise in order te turn any kind o profit.  That and he liked te pile on the canvas.  First thing Barbossa had done te the __Pearl__ was rip a third o the sails off her and then he'd gone back te a square rig.  Having sailed on her both ways the difference in the __Pearl__ was heart breaking.  She might still be the fastest ship – her hull guaranteed that – but she was sluggish and unresponsive in Barbossa's hands.   _

_Like his sister ship Peregrine was made of black wood but he had creamy buff sails instead o black ones.  Perhaps a third o the Pearl's size, indeed too small te be a ship and yet there was something about him that wouldn't let ye just call him a boat.  I glanced up at the full moon.  It had been three days shy o full when Barbossa'd sent me te the bottom.  Had it only been three days?  Or a month and three days?  Or a year and three days?  I would have te ask Mallory the date in the morning.  I laughed aloud as the reality finally sank in – I was free o the cannon.  Whatever else befell it was still a good day!_

_Mr. Mallory appeared on deck like clockwork just before sunrise.  There was a saying aboard the __Pearl__.  There were two things a man could count on – the sun would rise in the east and Mr. Mallory would be there to watch it.  Never understood Mr. Mallory's fascination with the sunrise, especially on rainy days but any hand who served with him knew better than to disturb it.  _

_                Once the sun was clear o the horizon Mr. Mallory spoke with out turning._

_"You may take any of the passenger cabins which pleases you.  I've laid a cutlass and pistol out.  I'll expect you back on deck this evening."_

_"Mr. Mallory, sir I haven't had a chance te thank"_

_Mr. Mallory whirled eyes full of restrained fury "Do **not** thank me, Mr. Blake."  His voice was icy calm._

_"And do **not** speak to me.  I am fully aware of what passed aboard the __Pearl__ and your part in it.  If I did not require your assistance to free Sparrow you would still be on the bottom.  It would be in your best interests to stay as far from my sight until I summon you as physically possible. You are **not** as invulnerable as you believe you are.  Do **not** tempt me. Get below and remain there until your watch."_

_I took several paces back, shocked at the vehemence of that anger and fled._

Mr. Blake?  I thought foggily why would he call my father Blake?  Elizabeth gave me another sip of rum while I gave my father as much of my attention as I could muster.  This might be my only chance.

He still looked nervous speaking in front of us and he picked at his sleeve.

"It was a tense two days afore we made Hispaniola.  Mr. Mallory, his temper hadn't improved any when we got there either…

_                I stepped cautiously inte the Captain's cabin and knuckled me forehead, eyes down._

_"Stop cowering" his voice had a ground glass tone "I am hardly going to damage you when I require your assistance."_

_I took a nervous breath and raised me eyes.  Rage, pure rage and frustration.  I wouldn't have thought that kind of fury could be bridled.  He made another notation on the chart that was taking up most o his desk._

_"The rum runners use this inlet for trading with the boucaniers.  We've had a stroke of luck in that the Spit is currently conducting business on the beach.  The boucaniers have picketed their horses here."  He glanced up from the chart "You do remember how to ride?"_

_"A little" I allowed.  Me da had been a groom.  I was no horseman but I could straddle a horse without landing on me arse.  "Aren't the boucaniers going te notice me taking their horses?"  
"They'll be … distracted.  They are not your concern."_

_He pulled out a smaller sheet o paper and began rapidly sketching a detailed map._

_"Sparrow is being held a full, hard day's ride inland.  Follow the dry streambed to the stone pillar, turn north by northwest and watch for the palisade.  The Wind will guide you" he continued "Since the bulk of the boucaniers are on the coast Sparrow will only have two guards."_

_I gathered up both the map and me courage._

_"How many on the beach?__  How many guns on the Spit?"_

_"Eight boucaniers and twelve in the Spit's crew.__  The Spit is a four gun."_

_Twenty men and four guns – damnation!  And we had in grand total one pistol with no more than a handful of rounds, two swords, and a long dagger between us.  I'd never seen nor heard of a vessel as apparently defenseless as the Peregrine.  Not a single gun and no sign that there had ever been one aboard._

_"Begging yer pardon, sir but given me advantages wouldn't be better for me te do the distracting and for ye te fetch Jack?"_

_I froze as I watched him fight with that fury, watched him lock it back down.  Mr. Mallory was a volatile as a powder cache with the fuse already lit.  When he could speak he ground out through clenched teeth "If I were capable of traveling that far inland I would have rescued Sparrow a fortnight ago not gone gallivanting in the deep to cut you loose from a thrice damned cannon.  You will do as you are bid or I will demonstrate just how **un**imaginative Barbossa is." Worry warred with rage in those green eyes "It was the Spit's crew that sold Sparrow to the boucaniers and I intend to see to it that they receive full recompense for that."_

_"Sold?"_

_"The island you so graciously arranged to have Sparrow marooned on is used as a cache by the rum runners on the Spit.  They have a long-standing highly profitable trade agreement with this particular band of boucaniers to provide rum and … pleasurable company in exchange for meat, hides, and other products to be found inland.  The ruffian in charge of this less than merry band of rouges prefers lovely young men.  And apparently his attentions are frequently fatal."_

_'Oh, bloody hell!' I thought ' no wonder Mr. Mallory was incensed, every man aboard the __Pearl__ knew his opinion o rape and rapists.  O God, Jack, forgive me.  I never bloody meant for this te happen.'_

_Mr. Mallory had continued speaking whilst me own mind was reeling "I don't know what condition Sparrow will be in when you arrive.  I've packed a satchel with medical supplies.  I've color coded them for you"  Mr. Mallory pinched the bridge o his nose.   He paused and for a moment worry utterly replaced anger "Just get him back to the coast still breathing."_

_"Aye sir" I promised._

_"We'll be arriving in the inlet within the hour.  I'll meet you on deck shortly."_

_I knuckled me forehead and fled._

_I wrapped nervous fingers around the wiry dun's muzzle.  It'd been easy enough te assure Mr. Mallory that I knew what I was doing with a horse but it'd been over nine years since I'd tried te handle one.  And this was neither a well-trained coach horse nor a gentleman's riding animal.  These were half-trained, ill-mannered little brutes with poorly made (or nonexistent) tack.  The only good thing was that they were hardly bigger than ponies.  I finished slipping the rough hemp hackamore over his ears and swung up inte the stirrupless makeshift saddle.  Me da would o had more than a few hard words over the training o this cantankerous little beast.  O course me da would never have dirtied his hands with this nag.  He had his pride, he did.  Proud o being a gentleman's groom at a fine house.  I wondered idly what he would have thought if he'd known how me own life had turned out.  There was another howl from the beach but I didn't turn back.  Mr. Mallory could take care o himself and I had me orders, more than that I had a friend te save and a debt te pay.  I collected the leads o the three nags I'd picked te use as remounts for Jack and I and galloped inte the night…_

_ Mr. Mallory hadn't been funning about it being a full hard day's ride.  For the first time I was truly glad o the curse, I didn't even want te imagine what I'd feel like after this long in the saddle.  I'd broken the wind o the little dun getting here.  He might recover but I doubted it.  I patted his golden coat and gave him a few words o gentle encouragement afore leaving the horses picketed in the forest.   _

_                I slipped over the palisade and immediately spotted one o the two men Mallory claimed had been ordered te stay.  I flattened meself against the wall o one o the mud huts as another man approached._

_"Where ha'ye bleeden been?"  Pot-belly grumbled._

_The newcomer gave him a lazy, satisfied smile "Just got done riding his Lairdship's colt.  Pretty little thing.  Too bad he done broke another one."_

_I didn't even think.  Me ball caught the newcomer right between the eyes and I was pulling me cutlass free o Pot-belly afore he even realized his friend was dead.  I moved quickly from hut te hut cutlass still drawn searching desperately for Jack.  Bastards, bloody bastards all o them.  I sheathed the blade and entered slowly._

_"Jack, Jack, it's Bill.  It's Old Bootstrap.  Can ye answer me Jack?"  He was balled up in the corner as far as the shackles on his wrists would let him go from the hut's center poll.  One look at the lock had me wishing for Mr. Mallory and his knack for lock picking.  Yet another o Mr. Mallory's odd and eclectic talents that made me wonder if he'd ever really been an honest seaman.  I finally settled for reloading me pistol and shooting the bloody thing.  Jack just crammed himself further back inte his filthy corner.  _

_"Come on Jack.  Snap out o it.  I've come te fetch ye out o here but ye've got te come with me."_

_Jack Sparrow just lay there and shivered with no recognition in his eyes at all._

_I swallowed and wished again for Mr. Mallory before reaching out and pulling Jack out o the corner as gently as I could.    _

_His eyes just stared out past me as if I wasn't there but he didn't try te resist me as I got him dressed and out o the palisade.  He followed dully, his eyes never moving from some point far out in the distance.  I took the two fresh horses' o the men I'd killed te replace the dun.  It took me the better part o an hour te get Jack in the saddle and I was none too sure he was going te stay there but I had no intention of lashing him te it nor o riding behind him.  I took up the reins o his horse and moved us out at a walk.  He moved with the horse as I increased our pace.  Thank God Mr. Mallory had taught him te ride…_

_                The ride back te the coast was the longest day o me life.  I discovered when I called a halt a few hours later than what I'd taken te be dirt proved te be layers o bruises and crusted blood.  Not a square inch o unmarked flesh, I cursed the bastards under me breath as I cajoled Jack up onte a different horse.   Mr. Mallory met us at the stone pillar.  I felt a moment's envy.  Even on that flea bitten excuse for a horse he rode like a master._

_"Sparrow" his voice was a gentle whisper.  "Jack?"  It reminded me o me da when he was working with a particularly spookish horse.  With a few touches and gestures he had me entire surly little herd looking like a troop o cavalry.  I hadn't seen such a neat bit o horsemanship since me da died.  He brought his own horse up along side Jack's and set te talking te him in that same soothing tone the rest o the way te the beach._

_I kicked me own horse ahead intending te defend Jack with me undead life if necessary.  It wasn't necessary.  I counted the corpses, me mind as numb as me body before dry heaving.  I'd have never suspected Mr. Mallory o having this kind o cold, calculated cruelty.  In the eight years since I'd been forced te become an outlaw I'd fallen in with some hard men.  I would o said I'd seen everything.  I'd been wrong.  I'd been hoping when I found Jack that Mr. Mallory had killed them all.  Ma always told me I should be careful what I wished for.  None o them had died quick and none had died clean and Mr. Mallory had taken somewhat more than his pound o flesh.  _

_                I caught back up with them on the beach as Mr. Mallory had taken another route te avoid taking Jack through the killing ground.  He was coaxing Jack off his horse when I rode me own out onte the sands.  I opened me mouth te speak and left me jaw hanging open.  Not a bruise remained on Jack, not one.  I swallowed watching as Mr. Mallory led Jack te the Peregrine's jolly boat.  He pulled a pistol and Jack's sword and compass out o his belt and laid them in the bottom o the boat.  _

_I summoned up me courage and stepped between him and the boat.  "You're not bloody human" I whispered._

_"Of course not, Bill, never have been, never will be.  Now get out of my way.  As the men on the beach will vouch standing between Sparrow and I isn't terribly healthy."  _

_He stepped around me and the boat moved itself off the beach and started gliding toward the Peregrine without the benefit o oars or sail.  I stepped determinedly inte the surf.  If I had te walk te the Peregrine along the bleeding bottom and climb up the bloody rudder chain then that's what I had te do.  I'd left Jack behind once before and I be damned afore I did it again._

_                I heaved meself over the Peregrine's rail and stood dripping on the deck.  Mr. Mallory and Jack were nowhere te be seen so I hurried below.  Mr. Mallory had tucked him inte his own bed.  He glanced up at me approach and stepped out o the cabin, shutting the doors behind him.  _

_"What do you want?"_

_"Is he going te be alright?"_

_Mr. Mallory sagged back against the closed doors "I don't know.  What are you doing here?"_

_I just blinked back at him "I can't leave him like this."_

_"Why not?" he hissed back "you didn't seem to have much trouble before."___

_I tossed me head back "I don't abandon me friends."_

_Mr. Mallory gave a scathing laugh that was like nails down me back.  I knew that kind o laugh, knew that accent and hated it.  The crew on the __Pearl__ had always said Mr. Mallory was a lord's son on account o his learning but I'd put no stock in it.  Mr. Mallory had sounded and acted like a merchant's son.  I'd served the gentry – I knew the way and manner o a courtier.  The way and manner o the people who'd destroyed me life and it was a courtier standing in front o me.  That easy inborn arrogance made me seethe somewhere deep inside and every scrap o the deep respect I'd had for the bastard vanished.  I straightened up all me fear replaced by a rage o me own._

_"You didn't seem to have much trouble when you betrayed him on the __Pearl__" Mallory had continued "You're **not **blameless in this William Blake."_

_"Ye blood soaked fiend" I spat back "Ye well bred monsters think ye own the bleeding world.  How dare ye slaughter innocent men?"_

_Mallory's eyes narrowed "They were anything but innocent and no one touches me or mine without dire consequences.  And you may take that as warning that a wise man would heed."_

_"Aye?__ And what are ye planning te do te me?" I challenged confident that because o the curse I was invulnerable but I fell back several paces as he advanced.  He stopped when I stepped inte the moonlight._

_"I **had** consider my curse sufficient"_

That statement set off a flurry of voices from every side.  My father actually took a step back.

Jack's voice rose above the others "Don't crowd him, give him a bit o space."

Things subsided.  'A fairy tale' the thought just popped into my mind 'I'm in a fairy tale.  But I had always thought they ended with happily ever after.  Elizabeth was my happily ever after – how could I be leaving her?'

"Now, just let him continue – I lost months o me life and I want te bloody hear what happened."

_I glanced down at me bare bones and back at Mallory "Ye did this?"_

_I received a cool, disdainful smile in response "Aye, it's not the heathen gods to whom ye owe a Blood debt.  And keep your voice down.  I've put Sparrow in a healing sleep, but he can still be awakened and the last thing he needs is to hear us arguing."_

_"Ye sick bastard"_

_"On the contrary" Mallory broke in condescendingly "I am quite legitimate.  There is no call to insult my mother."_

_I trembled with rage and roared "Do ye have"_

_I found meself on the boards with Mallory over me "Keep your voice **down**!" he hissed._

_"Why? There's nothing else ye can do te me."_

_"For a man who insists he's here for Jack Sparrow's sake you've a poor way of showing it."  He released me (currently flesh covered) wrists and stood.  He stared at me for a moment and flare of fire shot from his finger tips.  I bit back the scream, partly because I refused te give him the satisfaction and partly because he was right about Jack.   _

_"I would never make a pack of miscreants like Barbossa's crew truly invulnerable.  You remain – I promise you – quite, quite flammable and if you wake Sparrow **I** **will slow roast you**.  Am I being, very, **very** clear or do I need to give you another demonstration?"_

_After nearly five months o feeling nothing the pain of the burn was excruciating.  I lay on the deck panting for a few seconds before getting te me feet._

_"You don't know what it's like, te feel nothing" I protested "Ye know nothing o this hell ye've put us in.  Te thirst and starve and not be able te quench it."_

_"Oh human I assure you it is you who know **nothing** of hell" damn but I'd learned te hate that patronizing aristocratic manner "Do you know what an oubliette is?"_

_'An oubliwhat?'__ I thought_

_Mallory read the confusion in me eyes "It's French for a little place of forgetting.  I spent seventy-seven years in a two by two by two foot alabaster box.  You have the company of others of your kind, I heard no voice but my own.  You starve?  I hungered for decades.  You have the all the wide world to travel – I could not even move in my less than spacious quarters.  No breath of wind, no touch of any kind, no horizon, no stars by night, no sun by day, and the promise of **nothing** but greater horrors to come."_

He took several steps back, letting the moon light strip me bare "And I have given you the hope of one day be whole again – which is **more than I have,** human, even now.  You spent three days strapped to your cannon – imagine seventy seven years."  He turned to go back inte the cabin.

_"What, what was your crime?"_

_He paused before reentering Sparrow's cabin "I lived long enough to be named my father's heir – that alone was sufficient to condemn me."  I lay there in the pool o moonlight and tried te wrap me mind around the desolation o seventy-seven years in an oubliette._

My father went silent and just stared into space for several long minutes.

"Bill?" Jack offered him the rum.  My father took a long drink.

"I've thought about it for years" he said after he finished "Have nightmares about alabaster boxes and I wasn't even the one in it."  He looked at Jack with horror "I don't ken how he's as sane as he is Jack.  Three days I was under the sea on that cannon and I still break out in a sweat when I think about it."

I'd done a fair bit of thinking about what it must be like to sink into the depths of the sea knowing that you can't escape and can't die.  I was glad that my father had only been trapped that way for a few days.   Whoever and whatever Mallory was he suddenly had my sympathy and my thanks whatever his reasons for freeing my father. 

My father studied Jack for a few minutes "It is damn good, Jack, te see ye whole and well.  Mr. Mallory he didn't leave yer side again, just stayed in that cabin with ye all the way te San Juan de Ulua. He didn't even come up te watch the sunrise. I stayed up on deck for a few days keeping watch but that ship o his - I swear te ye as I live and breath it sailed its bloody self.  So eventually I went below te look in on ye…

_"No change?" I asked from the doorway._

_Mallory just shook his head._

_I twisted me cap in me hands "You must believe me – I never intended this."_

_Mallory sighed "I know you didn't" he replied in that same soothing voice he'd used every moment in Jack's presence since I'd brought him back. "And I owe you an apology."_

_'An apology?'__ I thought in shock – Mallory's kind never apologized at least not te me kind._

_"I am as much to blame for this as you.  It took all four of us to create this disaster."_

_I stepped inte the cabin.  Mallory gestured for me te take the place opposite him.  I picked up Jack's other slack hand._

_"Four?"_

_"You, me, Barbossa, and Sparrow himself" he said as he brushed Jack's hair with a tenderness that rivaled a mother's._

_"Why do you care?"_

_"Blood calls to Blood."_

_I straightened "But ye said ye weren't human."_

_"If you slap me it stings, if you cut me I bleed, if you tickle me I laugh.  We are not, at our core, so very far apart.  We live longer, we have abilities you do not share but that does not mean that children of mingled blood do not occur.  Sparrow is the only kin I have left that I care to claim."_

_I turned that bit o information over in me mind while Mallory went back te speaking softly te Jack in a language I didn't know._

_"What's amiss with him?  He looks fine."_

_"Physically he is fine.  One of the great ironies of my life is that I am both the greatest healer and the best killer of my kind alive.  I can heal any wound that doesn't destroy life almost instantly but shattered minds are beyond my skill.  He's hidden himself away deep inside where no one can harm him."_

_"Will he recover?"_

_Mallory laid his head on the edge o the bed "In my experience even those who do are not who they once were."_

_"Ye have a fair bit o experience then?" I wasn't sure I wanted an answer te this particular question._

_He replied without raising his head "With torture? Far too much from both sides.  Though I personally considered driving someone to this a rather profound failure but then I was always concerned with information extraction.  Breaking someone for the simple sake of breaking was always rather beyond the pale as it were."_

_I remembered those mangled bodies on the beach and shivered. _

_"How long can he survive?"_

_"With my assistance - as long as it takes" Mallory still hadn't raised his head._

_"He's not eating or drinking" I protested.  _

_"The Blood grants him a measure o protection against starvation and I can support him indefinitely when that runs out."_

_I glanced down at Jack's staring eyes "I understand Jack's, mine, and Barbossa part in this but I don't see where yer at fault."_

_ I was beginning te get very tired o talking te the top o his head._

_"The events of my life have not made me a trusting soul" he allowed in that same cajoling tone as he finally looked up.  Interesting how no matter what he said the tone stayed the same.  Me Da use te swear it didn't matter what ye said te a horse but the tone and touch were the secret.  He pressed several points along Jack's body lightly before continuing. _

_"The Black __Pearl__ is more than just a ship.  She is lledrith – an object made alive by magic, as is Peregrine, as will be any ship crafted by my hands.  She has her own mind, her own will but she was created very precisely for Sparrow.   Both as a soul mate" he paused and met my eyes "and if harness properly a nearly unassailable fortress.  If Sparrow had believed in what the __Pearl__ is no one could ever have taken her from him and he could summon her back tomorrow.  The problem is Sparrow doesn't believe.  Oh, I told him a dozen times how to use the more unusual aspects of the __Pearl__ but I never **showed** him.  And __Pearl__ can't act without him any more than Peregrine can without me."  He rubbed Jack's hand "I've had more than one hard lesson about revealing what I am.  And so I never trusted him enough to make bloody sure he knew the dangers and the benefits of being what he is.  Forgive me that Sparrow, please."  He swallowed before continuing "And I always thought we'd have more time.  You'd think having lived as long as I have that I'd know that there's never any assurance of tomorrow."  He fell silent with Jack's hand held against his own cheek._

_"The __Pearl__'s alive?"_

_He nodded, eyes closed "And she weeps – that fog that surrounds her now isn't some aspect of the curse.  It's __Pearl__ crying for Sparrow and the sound of her lamentation is nearly as dreadful as Sparrow's silence."_

_"Jack is a person" I scoffed._

_"And __Pearl__ is as much my daughter as any child a woman might one day bear me" the tone never changed but the green eyes glittered.  "Please Sparrow if not for me then for her."  Never thought I'd live te hear Mallory beg.  Jack just kept on starring at the ceiling.  I shifted uneasily in the silence.  _

_"How did ye do it?" I finally asked when I could bear the quiet no longer._

_His green eyes flickered te me and then back te Jack "Do what?"_

_"How did ye stay sane?"_

_"You're assuming that I am."_

_I watched him fuss over Sparrow.  Until those bodies on the beach I'd have said Mallory was one o the steadiest chaps I'd ever met in spite o Jack's insistence that he was daft._

_He sighed and spoke "I'm very stubborn and I don't like to lose."_

_"Who does?"_

_His lips twitched but the smile never touched his eyes "True enough.   The whole point of the oubliette was to drive me mad and I was very determined not to give my enemy that satisfaction." Another not smile "Besides by the reckoning of my people I am doomed to gorffwyll in any case."  He went back te whispering te Sparrow in some other language._

_"Gorffwyll?"___

_"Iechydwriaeth medru dim trigo a cleddyf – healing hands must not wield the sword.  The old wisdom of my kind claims that a healer can not be a warrior.  What I do appears effortless to your eyes.  It isn't.  The particular combination of talents that permits healing is very rare.  Generally individuals found to be in possession of such are gently raised.  Forbidden both hunting and any kind of weapons training because it is believed that a healer is particularly sensitive to the energies released by killing and that the recoil will destroy the mind of the healer.  The resulting madness is known as gorffwyll."_

_I glanced at Jack's unmarked face while remembering those bruises and God knew what else._

_"But ye heal and ye kill."_

_"Yes, well, no one has tested that particular bit of lore in several thousand years and if I do go bat-house Bedlam mad one day I'll wager it will have more to do with nearly eighty years buried alive than with the fact that I heal."  He shrugged "Or perhaps not, maybe I am courting my own destruction.  My tutors were certainly sure of it."  Another twitch o the lips and just a touch o amusement in those green eyes.  "The discovery that I had the potential to become a healer was a source of great consternation.  I was actually forbidden instruction and … strongly encouraged not to employ those talents."  The look in those eyes was rueful "I'm actually worse than Sparrow when it comes to accepting wise counsel."_

_I looked up at him in disbelief._

_"Oh, it's true I'm quite contrary."_

_"I didn't think you blue bloods had any thrice benighted faults."  At least the reprobates I'd served wouldn't have ever admitted te it._

_This time there was a teasing twinkle in those green eyes "I'm proud, arrogant, narcissistic, stubborn, hard-headed, temperamental, ostentatious, and I have a severely overdeveloped sense of vengeance." He shrugged "I'm perfect."  _

_I wasn't sure quite how te take the easy familiarity – Mr. Mallory had always maintained that proper bit o distance between himself and the crew.   _

_"I sent a piece o the gold te me son."_

_For the first time since I'd walked through the door I had more than a tithe o his attention.  He went utterly still for a moment and a breeze swept past me._

_"What did ye just do?" I snapped._

_His eyes blazed and he glanced down at Jack.  I could feel me cheeks reddening both with anger and embarrassment.  I had no business shouting in front o Jack but damn it I was worried about Kitty and Will._

_"I asked the Wind to bring me word of them." _

_"And?"___

_"There is no messenger swifter than the Wind but even it can not cross the ocean and return in an instant." He put his hands together and rested his chin on his finger tips. "And for all its speed Wind is an unreliable servant at best.   If I had a coin for every request I've made of Wind that went astray I could fill a dozen chests of 'Aztec gold'.  Wind is terribly capricious and absent minded."  That flicker o a grin came and went "there is reason for the term air headed."_

_"But Kitty and Will, will they be cursed?"_

_"No" he shook his head eyes narrowed "No, the question is will Barbossa pursue the gold to __London__?"_

_"End the curse" I demanded quietly._

_"I can't."_

_"You created it" I hissed back._

_"Can you recall a bullet once it is shot from the gun?  No more can I recall a curse – it must be allowed to run its course."  He spoke more slowly still deep in thought "Even should Barbossa brave the London docks – which I doubt he will, he has no wish to burn – he would not be able to track a single piece in so great a city.  He will not go to __London__."_

_"Easy for ye te be certain – it's not yer wife and child in danger" I protested while minding me own tone and volume "Sail us te __England__."_

_"I can't."_

_"Ye sailed the __Pearl__ everywhere else – why not __London__ town?"_

_"Because I'm every bit as much a fugitive as you are and there is far worse than a noose awaiting me.  There is nothing to be done one way or the other until Wind returns."_

_"So that's it – we remain cursed."_

_"Actually returning the gold and repaying the Blood aren't the only ways to end the curse.  It's just the one Barbossa prefers." He turned away from me and gave Jack his full attention again.  I turned on me heel and went back up on deck te fume.  And te wonder what he meant about the Blood te be repaid_

_                I gave the rising moon a sour glance and made me millionth circuit o the deck.  I might as well be still in the bloody deep.  That thought brought me up short.  I shivered even though I couldn't be cold.  No, this was a thousand times better than the deep.  Which brought me thoughts right back te the circle they'd been running in for the past three days.  Mallory had been quite clear that he would inform when (if?) one of the several breezes he'd sent te __London__ decided te return.  Until then I'd had little te do but pace the deck and think.  So damn quiet, almost as quiet as the deep.  It was nights like these Jack and I would sit and talk.  Jack about whatever scheme was whirling in that daft head o his and me about me Kitty and Will.  I wanted Jack back.  I wanted someone te bloody talk te and I wasn't desperate enough te go talk te whatever it was in the cabin with Jack.  It was a chilling thought – he'd said he wasn't human but he'd never said what he was.  A sulky?  A pooka?  A merman?  Some sort o sea sprite since he couldn't go inland.  But that didn't make sense on account o the fact that he talked like a courtier and London was a good bit further from the sea than Jack had been.  I stopped me endless pacing and sat on a coil o rope.  Couldn't go inland but I could recall him talking about being in __Rome__ and __London__ and __Paris__.  Had he lied?  And if so about what?  It was a pretty bit o trouble I'd landed meself in this time and no mistake.  I let me eyes travel over Peregrine again.  If __Pearl__ was Jack's soul mate was Peregrine Mallory's?  And if so what did it say about him that the ship was completely unarmed?  The only weapons aboard this boat were the ones at our waists.  Which come te think on it Mallory's sword belt was coiled up beside Jack's.  Mallory was unarmed.  He bloody **slept** with that white dagger o his aboard the __Pearl__. _

_ So what else did Peregrine say about Mallory?  There were no crew quarters aboard this ship, only a handful o **passenger** cabins.  And it had a bleeding library – who puts a library on a boat?  Obviously Mallory - but certainly no one else.  Space on a ship is tight, ye only carry what's near and dear so whatever else Mallory was he was a scholar.  No surprise that, everyone on the __Pearl__ had known Mallory was learned.  But what was the boat **for?**  Every boat I'd ever been on had had a clear purpose, even __Pearl__.  Fishing boats, packets, fly boats, merchantmen, navy vessels but Peregrine didn't fit.  He wasn't any o those and wouldn't serve well in any o those roles.  I vaulted off the coil as the first scream shattered the quiet and scrambled down the hatch. _

_Jack was still screaming when I reached his cabin.  Screaming and flailing like a mad man.  Mallory ducked a wild back hand while trying te snap Jack out o whatever nightmare he was lost in.  He went suddenly slack in Mallory's arms.  _

_"No, don't" Mallory's soothing tone had a desperate edge "damn it Jack, talk to me.  If you can have a nightmare then you can talk to me.  Come on.  There's a lad.  You're safe aboard Peregrine.  Come on."  He leaned back "Whenever you're ready Sparrow."_

_He arched his back stretching out the kinks and grabbed a rag off the bed side cabinet.  There was popping sound and when he pulled the rag away it was bloody.  He noticed me glance from the door way._

_"I was more interested in making sure he didn't injure himself than dodging his fists."  He stood and stretched._

_"Have ye been sitting there all this time?  Ye must be stiff as a board."_

_He shrugged "In these spacious quarters? Hardly."  He plucked something off his head and set it aside before shaking his hair loose from its queue.  I watched quietly from the doorway as his long hair brushed the side o the bed.  Odd I'd never realized just how long it was afore.  O course come te think on it I'd never seen Mallory with his hair down either.  He put his elbows on the bed and drove the heels o his hands inte his eyes.  _

_"I'd have thought that was a good sign."_

_He ran a hand through his dark hair afore answering "It is.  I just hope that **when** he comes back to us he doesn't spend the rest of his life plagued by night terrors." He turned in the chair te face me and kicked his booted feet up on the end o the bed.  _

_"Where were ye? What happened in __Tortuga__?"  I'd done a bit o pondering on that night when Jack invited Barbossa aboard.  The look in Jack's eyes, the way the hair on me neck had stood at attention, Mallory's tight coiled tension.  Something strange and magical had happened that night._

_He crossed his arms over his chest "My, my, my but you've gotten bold.  I don't owe **you** any accounting."_

_Damn that noble air!  My hands curled inte a fists but I glanced at Jack and stayed where I was.   Those green eyes appraised me, measuring, weighing.  That much was nothing new – every man on the __Pearl__ knew that look.  Damn if I'd back down again te another bloody aristocrat.  I'd spent me whole life bowing, scraping, and cleaning up their messes only te be betrayed._

_"No, but ye owe Jack one."_

_"Do I?  I'm rather less than certain of that but should Captain Sparrow ask for an accounting **he** shall receive one."_

_I clenched me jaw.  I wanted te batter that suave superiority off his bloody face. _

_Mallory rose so swiftly he was in front o me afore I'd even realized he'd moved.  I took a step back and he shut the door._

_"I don't care if you like me.  I don't care if you respect me.  But you are a guest aboard my vessel and you will remain civil or you will find yourself walking to shore."  We were so bloody close we were nearly touching and I thanked God his breath wasn't as foul as Jack's.  "You've a strange way of showing gratitude, Mr. **Blake**.  I would think taking a man off the gallows twice and cutting you free of that cannon long, I can pledge you from **extensive** personal experience, ere you could appreciate the true depths of the situation should count for something."_

_As much as I hated te admit he had a point.  "Why did ye do it?"_

_"I needed you to fetch Jack and I had the foolish notion that you really did understand loyalty and honor and that you just **might **possibly want to atone for what happened on the __Pearl__.  Clearly I was mistaken.  You disappoint me William Blake for some odd reason I expected better of you."_

_I straightened but I couldn't meet Mallory's green eyes. "I didn't mean the cannon – I meant the first time, in __New York__, why did save me?"  I'd always wanted te ask but I'd never had the courage._

_"Why for the same reason Barbossa was so eager to allow you to join his crew, Bill, you've a rare gift with a gun."_

_"You risked all that for another gunner?"  I asked in disbelief._

_"I don't think you realize just how good you are" he replied smoothly.  "Cannon are notoriously inaccurate even on solid ground when you add the roll and pitch of the Sea it's surprising that anyone manages to hit anything." He leaned even further inte me space " Which makes a man who can hit exactly what he's aiming at more than nine times out of ten absolutely amazing and worth his weight in loot."_

_ I looked inte those green eyes and I could o sworn for just an instant that they caught the candle light and gleamed like a cat's.  There was no mockery in them.  He meant it.  That compliment shouldn't have felt nearly as good as it did.  It really shouldn't have but no blue blood had ever acknowledged me as anything but a failure.  Me father had been the finest stable master in __London__.  The lord he had served had been able te boast he had the best trained horses in __England__ and it had been true.  Me elder brother could have been me father's doppelganger in looks and skill.  Me younger brother could do things with a falcon that had half the courtiers in court vying te employ him.  And then there was me – hopeless with the hounds, a disaster in the mews, and barely competent for more than mucking stalls and tacking up in the stable.  Me Da was a kind man.  He'd made a point o telling me we all have our own gifts, that God makes each man different and sets him on his own path and he'd sent me off te the court with Tom and his falcons in hopes I'd find a patron.   I couldn't stop the bitter laugh that slipped out at that thought – oh I'd found a **patron** sure enough.  Ironic that I didn't find my skill until I lost everything I ever cared about.  Seven years as a sailor on pirate ships had shown me just how good I was with a gun – couldn't seem te bloody miss if I wanted te.  I'd been praised for me skill more than once by the hard men I'd served with but somehow it meant more from Mr. Mallory.  Maybe because he was no slouch with a gun himself.  He wasn't the best I'd ever seen but he laid a gun tolerably well.  Or maybe it was because until I'd heard that accent there wasn't a man breathing that I'd had more respect for.  I glanced back up at him.  He was leaning against the door watching Jack through the window.  Who wastes glass on a door? The point o a door is for privacy and security – it defeats the purpose te put a piece o glass in it.  Ye couldn't fault his loyalty – who would have thought a courtier capable o that?  He had a point – me Ma and Da had taught me both loyalty and courtesy.  Not the mockery they made o it in court but real courtesy and gratitude.  I was suddenly ashamed o meself and wondered how much had been real arrogance and how much had just been me seeing what might not even be there._

_"I'm sorry" I still had te choke the words out._

_He glanced back at me in what looked te be surprise.  I smiled, in nearly three years I'd never seen Mr. Mallory surprised.  _

_"You're right. I've been a cad.  I colored ye with the same brush as every other courtier."_

_"Apology accepted" he returned still looking as if I'd walloped him with a belaying pin. "I hadn't actually meant to speak in your presence with that particular accent but in my concern for Sparrow I forgot.  I was raised in the court and" he let the thought trail off.  _

_"Then ye know."_

_"That you're wanted for more than just piracy, of course.  But you knew that anyway,** Blake**."_

_"And it doesn't bother ye?"_

_"On contrary, in your place I would have done something far nastier."  After the seeing the rum runners on the beach I could believe that.  Come te think on it all I had te do was step inte the moonlight te prove that Mr. Mallory was a firm believer in creative forms o vengeance._

_"I was locked in battle."_

_"What?"_

_"__Tortuga__.__  I told you I'm as much a fugitive as you are.  I spent over three months hard pressed by the Wild Hunt, driven far afield and deep into the Cynfyd.  When I emerged __Pearl__ was weeping and I could not find Sparrow."_

_I felt a sudden flare o anger at Jack, "He abandoned ye knowing ye were in trouble te go off with Barbossa didn't he?"_

_Mr. Mallory didn't answer._

_"Damn **fool**" I grumbled._

_"It's not really his fault" if Mr. Mallory had one blind spot it was the way he doted on no longer Captain because he was a bloody idiot Jack Sparrow.  "I knew that he was chaffing under my authority. I should have given him more rein."_

_'The last bleeding thing Jack Sparrow had needed was more rein' I thought but I didn't say it aloud.  There wasn't a man aboard the Pearl who didn't think the good Captain needed a bit o the wind taken out o his sails afore he got us inte something even Mr. Mallory couldn't get us back out of.  Jack was the best friend ol' Bill Blake had ever had but he didn't have a scrap o discipline.  As spoiled as a laird's only heir I'd thought more than once through the years I'd spent on the __Pearl__.  And it was duly considered opinion of more than one o the older hands that Mr. Mallory should have put Jack Sparrow across his knee a goodly bit more afore making him up te Captain.  I followed Mallory's gaze inte the cabin – Ma always said te be careful what ye wished for.  Jack Sparrow'd gotten more than just the wind taken out o his sails.  Mr. Mallory had given him rein and he'd hung himself with it_

_"Of course it never occurred to me that while I was off playing fox to the hounds that he'd be so foolish as to **invite** a snake into the den.  Or that you would pick the particular moment that he actually started to call on __Pearl__ to give him one hell of a concussion."  He slipped back inte the cabin but left the door ajar.  I stayed a few minutes watching him watch Jack sleep before going te a cabin.  In me cursed body sleeping on deck didn't actually feel a bit different than sleeping in a bed but I suddenly decided that I didn't want te be alone up on deck.  I still didn't know what was in the next cabin with Jack but I couldn't take the solitude any more._

_                The sun streaming through the window woke me late the next morning.  This boat had entirely too much glass.  It was as if Mallory was trying te bring the whole bloody outside in.  I stopped and looked at the windows again.  Maybe he was.  If I'd spent years buried alive I'd never want me view o the wide world obstructed again either.  I pulled me shirt over me head and stepped out o me cabin.  _

_                The door te the Captain's cabin was still open and I peeked in quietly taking in the wide open windows and the empty chair beside Jack!  There was a flash o something that looked lightening from the desk as I stepped cautiously inte the room._

_"Good afternoon" Mallory said from the desk "I thought you might want to sit with Sparrow."_

_I had actually but hadn't known how te broach the subject te Mr. Mallory.  It was frightening how he'd just known.   I settled into the chair beside Jack not sure where te begin.  Te be honest I wanted te give Captain Jack Sparrow a piece o me mind for ever being foolish enough te invite Barbossa onte the Pearl in the first place.  There was another flash o light from the desk followed by what sounded suspiciously like a muttered curse.  Mr. Mallory folded his arms across his chest and gave the whatever it was on the desk a glare that would have sent every crewman on the __Pearl__ scrambling for cover.   He poked and prodded it before positioning his hands over it again.  There was an even greater flash o crackling light and Mallory quivered for a second and swayed a bit in his seat.  Me eyes widened.  I'd seen a man struck by lightening once during a blow and as I watched Mr. Mallory's fingers twitch spasmically I was reminded o Jimmy's death throes.  _

_"What was that?" I asked me attention now fully fixed on the figure at the desk._

_"Backlash" he'd gone back te glaring at the offending object so he couldn't be too badly off._

_"Would ye care te elaborate?"_

_I was suddenly on the receiving end o that glare.  I sank back into the chair.  I breathed a sigh o relief o me own as his fingers stopped twitching.  He brought them tegether and rested his chin on his finger tips._

_"As I mentioned there's more to what I do than human eyes see.  The simple answer is backlash is what happens when something goes amiss."  He's gone back te fussing with the thing.  _

_"And the complicated answer?"  I expected te be told te swab the deck with me tongue.  Mr. Mallory had been the fairest Captain and the best mate I'd ever sailed under but he didn't take kindly te a lot o questions._

_"In this particular case backlash is pretty much inevitable in that I'm trying to harness Fire in opposition when I should really be using Earth and Fire in tandem."_

_"Well that was clear as mud."  I braced meself but only received a weak but amused grin in response._

_"Yes, I rather suppose it was.  I use to be quite good at this but given my current falling out with Earth the only way to accomplish this magically is Fire in opposition, except in theory you can't put Fire in opposition hence backlash."  I could see him starting te gather himself for another attempt.  _

_"Can it be done without magic?"  There was a flash o annoyance this time but amazingly I wasn't sent packing out o the cabin._

_"Yes, quite easily actually."___

_"But yer doing it magically anyway?"___

_Annoyance was beginning te give way te anger but I held me ground wondering how long Mr. Mallory's unusual indulgence would last. _

_"I seem to recall admitting to being both stubborn and hard-headed" he snapped afore setting off by far the most violent display yet.  He leapt out o his chair while I was still blinking te clear the jags o light out o me eyes._

_"I'm sorry.  I'm sorry." There was an almost frantic edge te his voice "There now, all better."_

_He was standing on one o the other chairs with his hands flat against the ceiling as the scorch marks faded.  "I am sorry" he repeated.  I suddenly realized he was addressing the Peregrine himself.  He stepped gracefully back down onte the floor and froze half way back te the desk.  _

_"I" he started and then turned around "Not really, I."_

_He was silent for several moments and the hair on the back o me neck stood at attention as something happened._

_"But there was no lasting harm done" he muttered and then flinched.  From his stance I'd say I was witness te something every hand on the Pearl would have given a month's wages te see, Mr. Mallory getting dressed down for good and proper.       _

_"Of course.__  And I am sorry.  Please don' t be wroth with me" he said beseechingly several minutes later.  It was a decidedly meeker Mr. Mallory who fiddled with his whatever briefly afore stuffing it inte a drawer.  He tucked himself up on the shelf under the stern windows looking thoroughly chastised._

_"What was that all about?"  I was surprised when he actually answered. _

_"Briefly, Peregrine is of the opinion that I make Sparrow look as wise as Solomon."_

_'Now that' I reflected 'would take some doing.'_

_I just looked at him as he sat looking out the stern windows.  _

_"I thought you wanted to talk to Sparrow" he reminded me a touch testily._

_"Aye, I do but why does Peregrine think ye're a fool?"_

_"Most likely because I am, Peregrine always has had better sense than I" a twitch o the lips "Odd that I built something that is generally wiser than I am myself."  He shifted under my continued attention but didn't elaborate further._

_"Don't ye still need te fix that thing ye were working on?"_

_"No.  I don't really **need** it at all and I fixed it before I put it away."_

_"Ye didn't, ye fixed, then what were ye over there doing?"_

_"Being an idiot, apparently."___

_"Backlash doesn't look like terribly enjoyable."_

_"It's uncomfortable at best, fatal at worst" _

_"Ye were over there risking yer life for something ye don't even need?  The bloody boat is right.  Yer a blooming idiot."_

_'Oh God' I thought 'I can't take this bloody madness.  I'm a cursed pirate on a magic boat talking te some sort o sea sprite.  I want te go home.  I want te never have left home.  I want me Kitty and me no longer little son.  I want the years back that that damn lordling stole from me.'  I buried me head in me hands.  _

_"We'll be putting into San Juan de Ulua in the morning" there was more gentle caring in that voice then I had ever heard in me life.  He cocked his head while watching me compassionately.  _

_"I'm fine" I breathed._

_"Bullocks" was the reply from the widow ledge "This is the second time you've had your life turned upside down and this time you can't even make sense out of what's happening.  Would you have preferred that I let you hang in __New York__?"_

_It was frightening that I had te stop and consider it.  But the truth was the two and a half years on the __Pearl__ had been good ones.   For the first time since I'd had te run I'd had a place te call home and while I never stopped aching for Kitty and Will I had te admit Jack, Mr. Mallory, and the Pearl had been like a breath o fresh air. _

_"No.  I'm right glad te still be breathing."  As long as I was still breathing there was hope that one day I would find me way back te me Kitty._

_"Glad to hear it.  You begin to worry me."  It wasn't the cool sarcasm that I expected from Mr. Mallory._

_ "Who are you?"_

_"Mallory."___

_"Not the Mr. Mallory I know" Mr. Mallory had never been cruel but he'd had a gruff dourness that didn't fit what I had seen today or for that matter with anything I'd seen since being cut free o the cannon._

_"I am a changeling, Bill" me head snapped up – that was me voice and by God me face as well on the window ledge "an elf raised among humans.  I am very rarely who I am."  My heart continued te race long after he went back te appearing te be Mr. Mallory.  "Peregrine is of the opinion that not being myself ninety-nine percent of the time is terribly unhealthy.  He's horridly disagreeable when I try to be anyone else when I'm aboard.  Besides I never particularly cared for Captain Mallory's grim outlook."_

_I hadn't realized I could still get a headache in spite of the curse._

_"But he **is** you."_

_"No – he is a role I played, one of so very many…_

_I have been a noble_

_With vassals bold and brave._

_I have been a martyr, _

_A heretic and a slave.___

_I have been a pirate _

_And sailed upon the __Main__.___

_I have been a soldier_

_And ridden among the slain.___

_I have been a tradesman _

_And worked with me hands.___

_I have been a general _

_And surveyed conquered lands.___

_I have been a hero_

_And brought the besieged relief.___

_I have been an assassin,_

_A traitor, and a thief._

_All the parts in life's cast_

_Of those who rule and those who dwell_

_From prince to pauper_

_I've played and played them well._

_I'd have never in a thousand years dreamed Mr. Mallory could sing so prettily.  But then me Ma had told me tales o the Fair Folk and their ways and beautiful fairy voices were mentioned more than once.  He swept out o the window seat and gave me a bow so graceful that it put the court te shame._

_"I am quite please William Blake a.k.a. Turner to make your acquaintance though" he glanced at Jack "I rather wish it could be under somewhat better circumstances."_

_He folded himself back up inte the window and pulled his journal out o his shirt.  _

_I watched Jack stare at the ceiling for a few minutes as every word I started te speak dried up in me throat.  I finally looked back a Mallory.  If Captain Mallory had been naught but an act then everything I thought I knew about him could be a lie.  I scrounged me memory for the tales I hadn't been half paying attention te when they were told te me as a wee lad.  All the tales agreed it was dangerous te offend the Folk.    I'd say that both I and the Spit's crew could vouch for that one.  They were known te rewarded small acts o generosity all out o proportion te what had been done.  I hadn't seen any evidence o that one but there was always hope.  They were known for appearing terribly fickle in their affection but could also be staunchly loyal beyond any mortal reckoning.  I glanced back at Jack, ye couldn't fault him there.  But every tale o the Folk warned that even the best intentioned were dangerous on account that they didn't belong in our world.  _

_I couldn't take the quiet anymore "Ye were raised in the court in __London__?"_

_"Aye."___

_"__London__ town's a goodly bit inland."_

_"Yes, it is" he didn't look up from his book which meant I was once again talking te the top o his head.  _

_And then it clicked – 'my **current** falling out with Earth', 'I **used** te be quite good at this', and most tellingly 'and I have given you the hope of one day be whole again – which is **more than I have,** human, even now.'_

_"You're cursed."_

_He looked up "No, not cursed, I'm" he nibbled at the edge of his lip (yet another thing I never would have imagined Capt. Mallory doing) and finally said "It's complicated."_

_I glanced at the drawer "And ye don't like te lose."_

_"No – I don't, nor do I accept failure gracefully."_

_Well that at least explained a bit more why he'd been over there daring fate earlier.  He'd said he'd known where Jack was for a fortnight before we finally got him back.  I wondered what he'd done te himself trying te reach him afore coming for me._

_ He glared "I wasn't talking to you."_

_I could feel the headache returning._

_"Talking to who?"_

_"Peregrine, he was just starting to give me an itemized list of all the less than brilliant things I've done to myself because I can't seem to leave well enough alone.  He worries, **needlessly, **that I'm going to lash myself fatally." I remembered him over there twitching one minute and ready te do it again the next.  The boat had cause te fret he **was** as foolish as Jack just in a different way, must be a family thing._

_"Twelve."_

_The headache ratcheted up another notch._

_"No, twelve."___

_I might as well bloody know what was being argued about "Twelve what?"_

_"The number of times I knocked myself senseless" he rolled his eyes "unconscious then, for more than a full day by refusing to accept that certain things are… not as simple as they once were."_

_"You've done that te yourself **twelve** times?"  I couldn't keep the incredulity out o me voice. ' Nice te know Jack came by his lack o common sense honestly' I thought sarcastically._

_He tossed his head, eyes flashing "I do this with better cause than just my stubborn pride, and you **know** it 'Grine."_

_A pause in which I assume the boat replied._

_"That isn't living 'Grine.  It's dying by inches and I **won't** do it."_

_Another pause.___

_"Do you actually think this is what I ever wanted?"_

_"I **can't** 'Grine" It was fascinating how the pitch of his voice never conveyed his clear exasperation, only his eyes and his body language which Jack couldn't see._

_"I did not"_

_"No I didn't."_

_"Did not."___

_I set me head on the edge o the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable – no wonder Mallory'd been doing it a few days ago.  Wait a minute – I shouldn't be able te feel the bed – should I? _

_"Did not."___

_This couldn't be happening.  It just couldn't.  Daft – I'd gone daft.  The most austere man I'd ever known was currently in a did not/did to argument with a boat and sounding for all the world like a six year old.  Please God, just please let all of this have been an elaborate nightmare!  Please let me wake up aboard the __Pearl__ with Jack still as Captain and all the crew aboard.  Actually better yet let me wake in Kitty's arms with me head pillowed against her breasts._

"Your pardon, Bill" soft hands gently pulled me face up until I was looking into those compassionate green eyes "We'll be in port in a few more hours."  Part of me didn't want his fingers, anyone's fingers on me.  The other part leaned forward hungry for any touch.  I COULD FEEL HIS FINGERS!  I nearly recoiled with the surprise.  As the heat from his hands flowed across my face I could feel the bands of the rings he wore on every finger.  'More even than Jack' I thought as my eyes slid shut, five months ago I never would have dreamed a single touch could seem like such a gift.  It was then I felt the first faint tremor.   My eyes snapped open and I wondered if the Peregrine, knowing him far better than I, had started the argument as a warning?

I wrapped my own hands over his after the second quiver went through him.

"I thought you couldn't break the curse."

"I can't but I've gotten rather adroit at exploiting heretofore unknown backdoors."

His hands were beginning to shake and his voice was decidedly breathy.  

I rocked back "Stop."

"Is something amiss?"

An oath slipped out before I could catch it.

"I meant beside the obvious."

"What is this costing you?"

"I'll be fine."

Not I **am** fine – I'll **be** fine, ominous when spoke by some one who apparently regularly pushed himself beyond the limits of good sense.

"No more."

He stepped back with an elegant flourish "As you like."

I picked up Jack's hand but instead of just seeing the contact I felt it and his hands were frighteningly cool to the touch.  In that moment my world seemed to stop spinning for the first time in far too long, it was as if the anchor had finally caught after weeks adrift.  You never notice just how important touch is until it's gone.

"Thank you."

"I'm not certain that thanks are in order given that I'm the one that cursed you.  I have a great deal of power and a nasty temper.  They make a poor combination."

"Yes, they are.  I said it to Barbossa in anger" I squeezed Jack's flaccid hand.  "But it's true we **deserved** to be cursed for what we did to Jack.  We were blinded by greed – it is just that we should be consumed by it."

"Would that Barbossa were half as wise" he returned to his perch in the window and continued "My apologies for nattering on to Peregrine earlier as well.  We've been sniping at each other since the day I laid his keel."

The question slipped out before I could help it "And how old were you?"

"Fourteen" he'd pulled his book back out.  I grasped me shoulder.  It was strange, me fingers felt me shoulder but me shoulder felt nothing at all.  I picked Jack's hand back up but still couldn't seem to find any words.

_ "Can ye turn straw inte gold?"  Ever since I'd started turning those old tales o me Ma's over in me head I'd wondered._

_"Can you train a falcon?"  _

_I went utterly cold at that question. "How did ye bloody know that?"  keeping me voice level was no easy task._

_"No man came aboard __Pearl__ as crew when I was Captain without being very meticulously scrutinized. It's even possible that I know things about you that you don't."  Now this was far more in keeping with the Captain Mallory I knew – cool, competent, and just a touch dangerous " I had every intention of leaving Captain Jack Sparrow not only with the best ship but also the best crew sailing on the Sea."_

_That may have been the biggest surprise yet – and it had been a week of mind boggling revelations – Mr. Mallory had been considering leaving the crew o the Black __Pearl__?!  I just blinked at him._

_"Can you train a falcon?"_

_"You know I can't" me own voice sounded far away._

_"But you are human and your brother was human why can't you?"_

_"Because we're not all alike."___

_"Neither are Ellyllon and to the best of my knowledge no Ellyllon born ever could change straw into gold."_

_The question of what elves could and couldn't do was suddenly secondary te the question o Mr. Mallory's departure from the __Pearl__._

_"Ye were going te leave?"_

_He played with his quill "One way or the other it was probably inevitable.  As I said Jack was at the bit to be off on his own so if nothing else I would have had to leave briefly even in the best of worlds.  This isn't the best of worlds."  He worried his lip again "The simple fact is that I am hunted.  When I was Captain I had choice of both our ports of call and the duration of our stays.  Every port was carefully selected both for my own safety and for those like you wanted by more mundane authorities.  Captain Jack Sparrow had very little inclination to listen to anyone's council.  The near disaster in __Tortuga__ was inevitable and if I were wise I would have left the __Pearl__ the day I made Sparrow Captain."  He laid the quill back in the book and waved a hand "It was rapidly reaching the point were my choices were either to leave the __Pearl__ or die. Rhyddid ynteu addoed."_

_"Rhyddid ynteu addoed?"__ I echoed._

_"Freedom or death" he replied "Those greater horrors are still waiting for me, Bill.  I will **NOT** be taken alive."_

_I shivered, remembering the chill under that strange cloud that night in __Tortuga__, and glanced out at the sea in sudden alarm._

_"Relax.  Nothing touches me at Sea unless I allow it.  No army from Avalon will cross Her depths.  I hold all of the __Fairy__Kingdom__ under a blockade.  I rule the Sea and nothing sails upon Her without my permission."_

_"Avalon is near __England__?"_

_"Avalon is **within** the __British Isles__ and __Brittany__.  You've not doubt heard the phrase 'Under the Hill'?  It is meant to be taken literally."_

_"But ye were attacked in __Tortuga__."_

_"By raiding parties crossing the Cynfyd, the Otherworld.__  They have to march across land they create with their own presence while Peregrine and __Pearl__ can sail circles around them.  Only on land can I be challenged and even then it takes time.  They either have to have an ambush prepared or they have to ride hell for leather once the hounds become aware of my presence ashore."  He leaned against the wood behind him "In the arms of the Sea what shall I fear?"_

_"Gales, hurricanes, tidal waves, and being becalmed" I muttered as they came te mind._

_He outright laughed "Over Water, Wind, and Fire I have **no** rival.  Were I to regain my mastery of Earth nothing short of the King of Avalon at the head of his army could take me."  I looked up inte wild green cat's eyes full of pride, power, and a burning hate that left me shaken.  "One day, one day" there was a promise in that voice that made me very glad I wasn't the King o Avalon.  There was also that tight coiled mix of fury and frustration that I'd seen earlier before we rescued Jack.  He flung himself out o the window te pace restlessly.  I'd been te the __Lion__Tower__ for a baiting once and I was reminded o constant restless pacing o a big cat caught behind bars and longing for blood.  His gaze flickered te Jack and I watched him swallow that anger again.  And I remembered night watches on the __Pearl__ when Captain Mallory had paced the quarter deck in the same way.  How long can anyone, man or elf, master such anger before it explodes?_

_He went te the shelves and retrieved a battered, leather bound tome and settled at the desk with both it and his journal.  The scratch o his quill was the only sound in the room for what seemed like eternity._

_"How can ye stand it?" I hadn't meant te speak and froze in me seat._

_But he just gave me a puzzled look "Stand what?"_

_"The quiet" every moment of silence felt like the deep closing in over me again._

_He laid the quill aside and gave me his full attention "Please don't snap on me Bill, I don't think I'm prepared to handle two catatonic patients."_

_Was I about te snap?  I didn't think so – but how does one know?_

_"It's just so quiet" I could hear the whine in me own voice.  His gaze flickered up and I could feel the Peregrine surge ahead.  I wouldn't have believed any boat could move so quickly, not even __Pearl__._

_"How can ye stand it?"  I sounded panicky even te me own ears and yet I felt detached._

_"It's not quiet for me" his voice had taken on that soothing tone again except this time it was directed at me.  "I didn't even know what silence was until the oubliette."  When directed towards someone else it was merely soothing but caught in those eyes it was mesmerizing "The Wind speaks to me and it's always whispering in my ears. You have no idea all the things it tells me.  It brings me word from every corner of the earth.  Did you know that the puffin chicks are just learning to fly right now?  And that the bumblebees think that the cowslips are better this year than last?  There's a lad and a lass on the dock in __Seville__ plighting their troth and fleeing their parents who don't want them to be together.  She was in such a rush to escape that her stockings don't match."  His voice just flowed over me and a felt a tension easing away I hadn't even known was there.  I have no idea how long he just kept going with the utter nonsense, bits and pieces of flotsam and jetsam.  Of sparrows nesting in threads stolen from a cardinal's cap, of flying fish playing in cresting waves, and cattle lowing under the moon.  Of horses galloping through marshes under the __noon__ day sun and a lass playing a pipe to newborn lambs just under where the mountains touch the clouds._

_"Better?" he asked._

_ I blinked, free of a tension I hadn't even realized I'd had._

_"Why don't you talk to Sparrow?"_

_Odd, I'd come in here to do just that but I had yet say a word te Jack, who had gone from staring at the ceiling te sleeping._

_"He's asleep.  Te tell ye the truth I'd like te dress him down for being a bloody fool."_

_"Then do so."_

_"What?"_

_"I've spent the last seven days cajoling, begging, and pleading without success so if that's what you feel he needs" he finished with a shrug and went back the reading his ragged leather bound book._

_"Jack Sparrow, yer a bloody fool" and once I began the words just tumbled over one another…_

_                I flinched as something whizzed past me nose.  I looked up both surprised that it was dark and that several small objects were in orbit around a disgusted looking Mallory.   He made a lightening fast grab and snatched two items while just managing to keep the ones that were tucked under his knees from being swept away by something.  _

_"Oh, no you don't" his voice held equal parts of exasperation and amusement._

_The headache was beginning to make itself felt again._

_"Enough.  Shoo.  All of you out."  The faint breezes that had been fluttering through me hair went absolutely still.  Mallory braced himself in his perch in the window as a gale swept around him._

_"You and whose army?" he challenged with one hand on each side o the casement.  He ducked and the Wind swept past him and back in through another window sending the flames in the chandeliers dancing but not a single candle guttered out.  'Lovely' I thought ' magic candles on the magic boat.  How appropriate'._

_A mini-cyclone spun around the room sending charts and other small items flying._

_"I sincerely hope that you rogues are planning on cleaning that up when you're finished."_

_He snatched the inkwell that was flung at his head neatly out of the air "That's rapidly becoming **more** than enough."_

_His eyes flashed as several things went out the far window "Sefyll" he hissed and the whole cabin went immediately silent.  A wave returned several things to his waiting hand. _

_"Glenhua, awron" he command in a tone that was well known to every hand on the __Pearl__ and he received the same instantaneous response as every disturbed item was neatly returned to its place._

_"Diffodd" the air in the room went dead and every window closed gently._

_He sighed "Your pardon again but they're terribly worried about Sparrow and for some reason they think I need…distraction.  It's just their way of relieving tension."_

_"They who?"___

_"The Winds.__  They're very fond of him, well as much as a breeze can be.  They like that he hears them, even if he won't admit it even to himself."_

All eyes turned to Jack who spread his hands "News te me mates."

"Are ye sure, Jack?" Gibbs eyes narrowed suspiciously "all those things ye seem te know with no good reason for it."

Jack fiddled with his rings "Maybe I do, maybe I do at that.  Never really thought about it."  He flashed a golden grin "Guess Ol'Jack isn't half as mad as some think."  The comment was light hearted but his eyes were thoughtful and perhaps for the first time worried.  He looked back at my father "But ye're getting as bad as Gibbs, Bill as that ye still haven't gotten to the point o yer discourse."

"Aye Jack yer right, true enough…

"I'm sorry it's the only room they had" I shifted nervously as Mr. Mallory coaxed Jack inte the room.

_"It's fine" Mr. Mallory replied, distracted._

_"But it doesn't have any windows."_

_"Why should? Ah, I'm not claustrophobic" he said as he shut the tiny room's door.  I tossed him the purse with the remaining coins that he'd given me in this morning when he'd sent me ahead te secure lodgings. _

_"How can ye not be?"_

_He reached over and opened the door "Because I can get out."_

_"And if it were locked?"_

_"There are a dozen ways I could get out of this room and that's **before** I resorted to magic.  Now shoo."_

_"Will ye be alright ashore?"_

_"I'm not a fish, Bill" there was a flash o amusement in those eyes "I'm more like a frog, tethered to the Sea and finding refuge upon her waves but perfectly capable of hopping up onto the beach for a bit."_

_I let that one turn over in me mind while thinking on me Ma's tales "Does that mean if you're kissed by yer one true love ye'll be free o the spell?"_

_Mr. Mallory snickered, then chuckled, and finally laughed so hard he ended up on his arse on the floor.  I crossed me arms over me chest somewhere betwixt angry and embarrassed – how was I te know what was and was not possible?  O course there was an almost hysterical note te that laugh.  Jack's condition couldn't be any easier on Mr. Mallory than it was on me.  I let me gaze flicker te Jack – had he twitched just a bit?  Mr. Mallory was back on his feet in a flash and beside me. _

_"Would that the long, dark night of my soul was so easily remedied, would that it were" he shook his head._

_"Have a nice evening."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Shoo."_

_"To where?"___

_"To whatever inn happens to have the most drunken sailors in it" he replied as he backed me out the door "If there's any change in Sparrow or word from __London__ I'll send the inn keeper's boy for you."  I found meself staring at the closed door._

_                'Mr. Mallory' I thought slightly muzzily 'is very wise for being a fool.'  I could taste again, courtesy o Mr. Mallory and while the drink did not truly satisfy I **was** tipsy for the first time in five months.  O course afore the curse I'd have long since been flat aback under the table instead o just a bit mellowed.  Ten years ago wild horses couldn't have drug me inte a disreputable little hole like this and now…damn but it felt right.  Would me Kitty even know me anymore?  I watched with an easy detachment as a brawl broke out on the other end o the room, which o course led te a number o wagers being made on the winner.  Personally me money was on the wiry little fellow, not much meat on his bones but something in the way he moved reminded me o Mr. Mallory.  There was a tugging at me elbow._

_"Senor, Bill?"  I looked down at the boy who pointed silently back towards the inn and scampered away._

_I dropped a couple o coins on the table and rushed out the door._

_                Something was wrong, I could feel it in me bones as I took the outside stairs two at a time and burst through the door at a half run.  The lamp was still burning in our room but no one was inside.  I grabbed it fast enough te send the flame dancing across me hands.  I cursed and nearly dropped me only light.  I shivered the dread o the deep creeping on me again in the quiet o the inn.  The sight o the molten wall over the inside stairs brought te a dead stop.  Magic, only magic could have done that.  It was then I noticed Mr. Mallory in the shadows at the bottom o the stairs.  Me first thought as I rushed down the steps was he was dead and they'd taken Jack – whoever the they were that he was running from.  _

_"Stay back" he burbled when I was a few steps above him.  I ignored the order while a wave o relief washed over me.  He tightened his grip on his white dagger.  _

_"What are ye going te do with that?"  He created the bloody curse.  He aught te know a dagger was useless but I gave the strange white metal o that dagger a second less sure look.  He wrapped a hand around me forearm and rose te his feet.  I just swallowed as I took in the size o the pool o blood he'd been lying in._

_"Follow Jack" he said shallowly._

_"Where are ye injured?"_

_He stepped back te stand free but he looked as steady on his feet as a new-born colt. "Follow Jack" he repeated._

_I took a step forward and he took one back maintaining a slight distance between us.  A telling move – earlier Mr. Mallory could o cared less how close I'd been.  Another step and I had him neatly in the corner.  Even more telling – Mr. Mallory would have never let me put him there if he'd had the wherewithal te dodge me._

_"Damn it, where are ye injured?"_

_"It's nothing – go find Jack" there was no strength behind his words and he had that lock knee stance, I'd seen often enough since I'd become a fugitive.  Go down in front o a crew like Barbossa's and they'll rip ye apart.  Never, never let 'em see ye bleed, no matter how bad.   _

_"Please, and be careful he's not himself" that same faint voice as if he didn't want te take a deep breath._

_It was then I realized what had happened.  When I'd seen the blasted wall I'd assumed that he'd been ambushed but that didn't fit.  And I remembered the night when deep in our cups Jack had slurred on and on about Mallory and magic and how Mallory had tried te teach him magic.  He'd been trying te convince me, unsuccessfully, that Mr. Mallory was daft.  The only person aboard the __Pearl__ who thought Mr. Mallory was daft was Jack and the only man aboard the __Pearl__ who didn't consider Jack daft was Jack himself.  O course Jack's point had, I think, been that Mr. Mallory was daft on account o the fact that Jack couldn't do magic except that apparently he could. _

_"Jack did this te ye didn't he" it wasn't really a question and Mr. Mallory didn't answer with anything but his eyes._

_"You need te find him before…" his voice trailed off as for an instant it looked like he was going te fold up "I'll meet you aboard the Grine."_

_"Bullocks – I'll bring Jack back here" I was more than half ready te hit the fool meself.  Now if I could just decide which o the fools te hit first._

_"Not safe" he snipped his words off as if he didn't wish te speak at all._

_"Then I will see ye te the Peregrine first" it was the wrong thing te say.  Those expressive eyes went instantly flat, his face went blank, and he attempted a more natural stance with limited success._

_"I'm fine" _

_'and I'm the king o __England__' I thought but managed not te say it._

_"And will meet you at the dock."_

_I stared at him, what a pair o idiots!  I was considering how te convince him short o knocking him out when he went stiff like a hound on point._

_" **Go**_**_ now! Get Sparrow! Docks!"_**_ It was as if another will had taken me own.  I just turned and went at a flat out run down the ratty little port's only real road and crashed through a door without even breaking stride.  Two 'ladies' shot out the empty door while three members o the knot o men in the back o the room turned te me while the rest ignored me te finish working over Jack.  One thing ye had te give the curse – it was one hell o an advantage in a fight.  I made short work o me own adversaries and turned on Jack's. _

_"Bloody, bloody hell!__  Damn you Jack Sparrow were ye **TRYING** te get yerself kilt?" I railed at Jack's unconscious form "Damn, damn, damn" I muttered under me breath while I wrapped a blanket around Jack and set off down the road at a lope hoping that Mr. Mallory could keep both himself and Jack alive.  I tried te return te the inn but me feet just went te the docks regardless o me will.  Ye could have knocked me over with a feather when Mr. Mallory was there waiting.  He must not have been as badly off as I feared was me first thought but then he didn't rush te Jack's side letting me approach instead.  He had me settle Jack in the jolly boat before nearly falling in himself when he tried te climb inte the boat.  I felt a chill creep up me spine as I wondered if neither o them would survive the night and a second chill as I wondered what Mr. Mallory's death would mean te the curse.  But he rolled himself stiffly forward and commenced te running steady hands over Jack's bloody torso.  By the time we reached the Peregrine the sword slashes were closed and the bullet holes in his chest while not fully closed had stopped sucking air and bleeding._

_As we bumped against the Peregrine I reached out te the grasp the ladder but Mr. Mallory shook his head and the entire jolly boat was lifted by a wave and place gently on the deck.  _

_"Take Sparrow to the Captain's cabin" that already faint voice had grown weaker and I wondered if I would have to carry both o them below but he made it te his feet.  I raised Jack gently in me arms with Mr. Mallory trailing stiffly behind.  _

_"Get out" he ordered from outside the cabin._

_I glanced up from Jack in surprise._

_"Now."___

_He stood back from the door, never letting me behind him, eyes following me every move before slipping inte the cabin with Jack and locking the door firmly.  I was suddenly thankful for the window as I watched him pull the first ball out o Jack's belly.  I grinned like a fool when Jack's eyes fluttered open and then gaped as he grabbed the book Mr. Mallory had been reading and nearly brained him with it.  For having a nasty temper ye had te give Mr. Mallory points for patience as he deflected the book and tried te reason with Jack.  O course Jack wasn't having any o it and…hell!  I threw meself against the door but it didn't even shiver much less budge.  I tried te smash the glass next as Jack switched from pointing the pistol at Mr. Mallory te pointing it at his own head.  I listened te the bargain Jack forced on Mr. Mallory and was suddenly ashamed that I'd called Jack Sparrow a friend.  As spoiled as any lord's son and deserving o whatever he got.  Mr. Mallory pushed himself back off the bed, rose slowly, and unlocked the door._

_"You need te go home, Bill.  As quick as you possibly can."_

_"What? I can't leave now."_

_"Sparrow's chosen his own road.  I sent for you because I've word from __London__.  Go home."_

_"Barbossa's gone te __London__?"_

_"No." He looked down "Bill, your wife is dying."_

_I slammed him against the hull "You lie."_

_He just slid down leaving a streak o blood.  He coughed and spat more blood.  "Not lying."_

_I reached down and pulled him back up "What did ye do te me Kitty?" I yelled shaking him. _

_"Didn't.__  Wouldn't.  Consumption"_

_I dropped him and he just slumped back down.  I pulled him back up and he stood swaying._

_"I don't care if yer running from the devil himself – yer sailing this bloody ship te __London__ and healing me Kitty."_

_"Can't."_

_I hit him and he dropped like a rock. _

_"Don't tell me that."_

_ He flicked a glance behind me and whispered "Sefyll"_

_I grabbed him again but his attention stayed behind me "__Neb__, sefyll."_

_It was the oldest trick in the bloody book and I wasn't falling for it._

_"Ye're going te __London__ or yer going te die right here."_

_"Yes, I am if you don't let me pass."_

_"What?"_

_"No more healing on this ship today" he lisped repeating the words o Jack's agreement "Dying, please."_

_That stopped me "But ye can't make it back shore."_

_"Don't need to, Sea will care for me.  Sorry."_

_I snapped at the thought o me Kitty coughing her life away in agony and I grabbed him by the throat.  He was just another thrice damned back stabbing aristocrat._

_"Yer sorry are ye?  Ye'll be sorry" and as me fingers tightened I remembered every slight and injury the gentry had ever done me.  As me own hate boiled up it stopped even being Mallory's face before me.  His hands scrambled frantically against mine but there was no strength left in him. I dropped him in agony, staring at the blisters and scorched flesh on the backs o me hands as he gasped on the deck.  I felt a flicker o shame but he was just a bloody aristocrat.   I remembered all those stories where having a fairy's real name gave ye power over 'em and demanded "Ye give me yer name and show me yer real face and I'll help ye te the rail."  It was blackmail pure and simple.  He was no good te me dead but I needed him bound if I was going te save Kitty._

_He blinked up at me "Ariel ap Auberon Prince of Avalon" and it was me turn te stare.  Good God but he looked just like Jack would have a six years ago.  If Jack had been on his death bed that is and had pointy ears and eyes.  He was flesh was grey and I didn't think that was its natural hue.  The marks o me fingers were livid against the unnaturally pale skin.  Jack must have hit him just te the left o the base o his throat if the cracked rubies and melted cloth were any indication.  Odd place te hit a man – three inches or so above the heart.  I wondered exactly what it was Jack had done te him._

_"Yer not leaving here Ariel ap Auberon until ye agree te return with me te __England__."_

_He just shook his head weakly._

_"Ye'll lay there and die before going te __London__?"  I didn't believe it, not for an instant, put a **noble** in a corner and they'd cheerfully sell their own mothers._

_"Rhyddid ynteu addoed" he murmured faintly._

_'Freedom or death' me mind supplied._

_"Not under Earth."_

_"What?"_

_"Don't bury me under Earth, not under Earth again" he shivered "not even in death."_

_I was suddenly ashamed "I'll help ye te the rail and put ye off in the jolly boat – just agree te come te __London__."_

_He shook his head, chuckled, and brought up more blood._

_"Ye find this amusing."_

_"Ironic, extremely.__  All times I've cheated what most would call certain death, all the enemies that have hunted me and failed.  Of all the people to kill me…" He made it back onte his elbows and looked up at me "Pass."_

_"**Please** just agree te come te __London__" I could feel me own resolve weakening._

_"No" he glanced back at the cabin, worried._

_"Why didn't ye heal yourself instead o Jack?"_

_"Sparrow first."___

_"Why?"_

_"I'm stronger and I'm doomed anyway.  Could have healed us both if" those strange cat's eyes begged._

_Kitty, oh God, not me Kitty.___

_"If yer doomed anyway then it won't matter if ye go te __London__" I spat back._

_"There's so much more to this than my own life and death.  Can't. Won't."_

_"Damn it" I was begging meself at this point "she doesn't deserve te die by inches."_

_"And I do?"  His lips had gone blue._

_It was like a slap in the face "No, but…"_

_"I **can't **get to __London__ anymore than I could reach Jack."  Damn it, I'd forgotten – I **was** asking the impossible._

_"Then sail us te the coast and I'll…" I broke off as he shook his head._

_"Why not?!"___

_"Waiting over the Channel.__  Too many."_

_At that moment the late rising moon's light touched me and as I went skeletal I realized I could never go home – how could I face Kitty like this?  And what would happen te the curse if Mallory or Ariel or whatever died?_

_"Nothing"  _

_It was spooky how he answered questions I hadn't asked._

_"A curse once cast is separate from the originator."_

_I looked down at him coldly "I think I'll test that."  _

_He closed his eyes "Wind to your sails Sparrow."_

_"He's killed ye – why do ye still care?"_

_"Has **he**?"  I couldn't meet those eyes and their accusations._

_"Why did ye tell me if there's nothing te be done?"_

_"Will need you."___

_"I don't care what ye bloody need."_

_He looked at me like I'd taken leave o me senses.  And it hit me like a ton o bricks – Will.  How could I have forgotten me son?  I was raving over the mere thought o me Kitty dieing while me little son was back in London watching his mother fail slowly, painfully right in front o him.  And I hated him all over again that he'd remembered me son when I'd forgotten._

_"Go home" he whispered but I was thinking o me Kitty laughing with the wind in her hair.  How beautiful she'd been on our wedding day with both our families around us.  Except those families were gone now if Kitty died Will would be utterly alone in the world.  Mr. Mallory was right I needed te go home._

_"Where are they?"_

_Silence.__  I dropped te me knees staring inte glassy eyes.  I gave him a little shake and he blinked slowly.  Oh God, what have I become?  There was a time I wouldn't have stepped over a dying dog and now I'd intended te let a man – elf die at me feet.  The bruises on his throat and the shiner developing around he left eye were their own mute accusations and I couldn't shake the thought as I gathered him up that I'd hit a wounded child.  It was a silly notion.  I had stood shoulder te shoulder with him in enough fights te know he wasn't but he looked like one lying there on the deck._

_"I'm sorry, I'll get you" the words died in me throat as I turned and found meself face te face with the Sea.  We sailors talk about the sea as a woman but it's all te give a face te what we don't understand.  That wasn't what was facing me.  Fully formed, yet formless, shifting, never still, ceaseless movement and yet motionless.  All those times he'd glanced behind and given just the slightest shake o the head.  She'd been there the whole time just waiting for permission.  She took him from me, cradling him in her, her – cradling him.  And I froze as her attention turned te me "__Neb__" he shook his head.  She swept him away.  I scrambled up te the deck but they were gone…_

My father's voice came from far, far away "If he went living inte the Sea Gibbs then She kept him safe."

"I nearly killed him" Jack sounded stunned. 

"Aye, ye did at that" you could hear the shame in me father's voice "between us we came nigh unte it."

I heard something shatter "If he'd been the height I thought he was I **would** have killed him and ye would have been digging two graves, Bill."

"This Mallory" Governor Swann spoke sounding shaken "this creature, you've summoned, he is the one responsible for the curse?"

"Aye"

"And you've called him here?  How can you even consider consorting with, with" apparently he either couldn't think of an appropriate explanative or was to genteelly bred to say it.

It was my father who growled a response "And if it was your daughter lying there?  I know yer kind ye'd make a deal with the bloody devil for yer lass but ye'd damn me te the stake or the gallows for calling on a fairy.  Well me son is married te yer lass **Governor**" he made the word an insult "so he's flesh o yer flesh.  But then I doubt yer terribly happy bout that are ye?  Be right convenient fer ye if the lad died so she could make a more appropriate match wouldn't it?"

Governor Swann sputtered "I have nothing but the highest regard for your son."

"But ye'd let him lie there and die wouldn't ye Governor?"  my father's voice broke "I may not have been much o a da te the lad but if Mr. Mallory wants me life or me soul in exchange for Will's healing then I'll give it gladly." 

"I wasn't planning on it" a somewhat familiar voice observed "what in the world would I do with someone else's soul?  Or life for that matter?"

"Mallory!" Jack managed to sound ecstatic, shamed, and relieved simultaneously.

"Permission, Captain Jack Sparrow, to come aboard?"


	4. A Prince, an Apprentice, and an Ass

**Author's note:**  My apologies to **Dragon Hunter** – whenever I tell you I'm going to post just add 2 days.   My thanks to Dragon Hunter, dshael, Talamh, risika, Seaspray, Savvy Rum-Drinker, and Rambles for your enthusiastic reviews.  Since no one but me reads these before they're posted it's nice to know you're enjoying it!

Oh, and **Rambles** allow me to assure you – we're still in the prologue.  The real story has yet to begin J!

And at the rate I'm writing we aren't going to get to the 'meat' of the story until August :-P.  I've got to start writing shorter chapters!

**Seaspray** figure on a 2 week turnaround given the chapter lengths.  I have to write, edit, and make sure that I've hit all of my outline points without contradicting a point in the chapters as yet unwritten. (Always interesting and occasionally cause for author hair loss.)

Historical note:

Blood of Avalon

Chapter 4:  A Prince, an Apprentice, and an Ass

"Granted" Jack replied delightedly.

The life and light came suddenly back and I blinked up into Elizabeth's chin as she looked at the newcomer.  Of course I should have realized, should have remembered.

"Noman" I whispered and coughed.

"Gently Cennan" he crossed from the rail to my side so quickly I didn't even see him move.  He started to reach down to touch my chest but I caught his wrist.

"Where's the profit in it for you?" I whispered.  The concern vanished out of those green eyes as they shuttered going more distant and cold than I had ever seen them.  It was a terribly rude question but I'd heard my fair share of fairy tales from my mother too and like pirates princes and fairies have their own agendas and I wanted to know what it was.  I wanted to know **why.**

 "Is it so fantastic that I might be capable of generosity?"  No anger, no emotion at all in that question "That not every act has to have strings attached?"

I glanced over "But my father tried to kill you."

"I am not your God to visit the sins of the fathers to the third and fourth generation."

"Exodus 20:5, 34:7, and Numbers 14:18" Jack muttered.

"And?" his gaze flickered to Jack.

Jack frowned "Deuteronomy 5:9?"

He gave a short nod and turned his attention back to me "All that matters in the end is what you can do and what you can't do.   You've already bled your body out if Jack hadn't tapped into your enaid you would have died an hour ago and you're already far into diffygiol.  You can't survive another minute without my assistance.  So Cennan can you leave your wife to raise the child she's carrying without you?"

"Elizabeth?" Governor Swann and I asked simultaneously as all eyes turned to Elizabeth whose hand flew to her stomach.

"I'd only begun to suspect" she breathed in shock.

He tilted his head as if listening then cast a glance up at the emerging stars "February 12th  - I'd say barring complications you'll be cradling your first born by the last week of September.  A lass, I think, but it's a little early even for me to be sure."

I reached out and put my hand over Elizabeth's.  I was going to be a **father!!**  I could feel the sappy grin spreading across my face as I stared into Elizabeth's eyes.

Mallory cleared his throat "While I do hate to interrupt such a lovely starry-eyed moment the longer we delay the weaker we both become."

I pried my eyes away from Elizabeth "Both?"

He arched one dark brow "I've been sustaining your life since my arrival.  As I said Cennan you're bled out and unless I heal you you'll eventually drain us both dry."

I flushed "I'm being an ass aren't I?"

His lips twitched but the smile didn't make it to his eyes "No, that's Mr. Bolger.  Do you want to live?"

"Yes" it didn't matter any more what he might ask I **wouldn't** leave my child fatherless, not if there was any other way.  And besides Noman had never done anything but bless me.

"Good – I'd hate to think that most of the Pearl's crew just spent the last five hours exhausting themselves at the sweeps for naught, not to mention the fact that I becalmed over a dozen ships redirecting Wind and reversed three currents."  He reached down again and pressed a firm hand to my chest.  It was odd to feel the rings on his fingers even though my eyes told me that his hands were bare.  I drew in a deep, painless breath and immediately began to cough.

"Not yet" he commanded and I felt it subside.

"You've a fair bit of fluid in your left lung that we will eventually need to clear but I don't want you coughing until I've straightened out this mess."  I didn't like the look his was giving my gut at all. 

"You **can** heal him?" Elizabeth demanded more than asked.

Mallory answered without taking his eyes off of my torso "Aye, lass in seventy-two hours he won't even have a scar to show your grandchildren.  The bad news is that you're probably never going to forget just how miserable you're going to be for the next few days, the good news is you're going to sleep through most of it."

"But his chest just closed up."

"Indeed" he almost sounded like Commodore Norrington when he was annoyed. "That was a simple wound.  The ball passed through cleanly and while it clipped the lung slightly it did relatively little damage.  This on the other hand is a much nastier affair."  He caught Jack's eye "Just for the record Captain Jack Sparrow next time could you ask for something simple?"

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Why haven't you started?" Elizabeth's voice had taken on the edge I'd come to dread.

"Mrs. Turner your husband was hit here by a nail.  When it struck the rib both it and the bone shattered sending fragments of metal and bone deep into peritoneal cavity.  The bone and the damage it caused are no problem at all as I've had more than a bit of practice at dealing with broken bones.  If the nail had remained intact it would also pose little difficulty in extraction but it didn't.  Once upon a time I'd have asked it nicely to follow the same path out that it used to get in.  If I try that now the most likely result would be a backlash young Mr. Turner would **not** survive.  I could of course simply heal the damage and leave the lead in his belly.  The problem with that is that lead is a poison, madam, in five years you'd start to notice changes in his behavior, in seven he would bear very little resemblance to the man you wed, in eight you'd be burying him.  What that all means, milady, is that in spite of the fact that the absolute last thing he needs is someone digging more holes in him that is exactly what I'm going to have to do.  I am at the moment strengthening him for that while planning where and how I'm going to get at that lead.   If that wasn't enough his enaid is utterly exhausted which means I'm supporting him with my own – a delicate operation at best since if a human's is a candle flame mine is the sun and I could fry him with a single instant's inattention.  While not the worst healing I've ever performed the next hour is going to be quite challenging and I would prefer not to be interrupted.  He'll need some **clear**, and I do mean **utterly clear** broth when I've finished.  Why don't you and the rest of the spectators toddle off to the galley?"

Elizabeth blinked at him.

"That means shoo."

We watched most of them shuffle off "Better you than me Cennan."  He shook his head "And here I finally thought I'd found a student that actually **listened **to me."

"I did, three hours a day just like I promised" I protested.

"Aye, but I also told you not to get in the way of flying projectiles" the voice was gently teasing but the eyes were still shuttered and distant.  "Pleasant dreams, Cennan."

"Wait, pleasant dreams?"

"No offence but the last time I went delving in someone else's guts while the patient was awake I ended up on the wrong end of a pistol" he flickered a glance at Jack who flushed all the way to his bandana again.  While I certainly would have preferred to not be shot I wouldn't have though Captain Jack Sparrow capable of a blush until today and it was rather amusing to see.

"I" Jack began but Mallory stopped him with a glance "Later Sparrow – don't you have something Captainish you should be doing?"

"Didn't think that included me" Jack sighed "Right.  See ye soon, whelp."

I swallowed suddenly terrified but not wanting to admit it "I want to stay awake."

"No, you don't.  Have **I** ever given **you** reason not to trust **me**?"  I remembered what I'd done to Jack after he asked me the same question and it was my turn to flush as I slipped into darkness and dreams…

_I glared at the drunk slumped in the chair in the corner.  I hefted the mostly empty bottle and flung it against the wall were it shattered with a satisfying crash before stomping back to the forge.  I snatched up a hammer and began flailing at the metal.  Why had I even let myself hope?  I was cursed – that had to be it.  First my father disappeared, then my mum.  O God, why did you take her?  Why like that?  Then the workhouse – I shivered at the mere thought of the place.  I couldn't stand it, I couldn't so I'd run away to the coast and lived in the gutters until I'd found a ship willing to sign me on under a good, honest Captain who promised to help me find my father.  I didn't want to think about what had happened to the Good Hope.  Didn't want to think about how Captain Davis had died.  **Bloody pirates!!**  I hate them!  I hate them!  I pray Lt. Norrington hangs them all!  The only survivor – why?  Why me? Then the Governor's daughter, I paused and smiled a little at the thought of __Elizabeth__, tried to help me.  Her father promised to find me an apprenticeship under a fine master and __Elizabeth__ had promised to teach me to read.  But the Governor made sure that __Elizabeth__ saw me as little as possible and while my master didn't beat me – how much longer until we were both out in the street?  I just kept pounding on the iron that had long since gone cold not longer even really seeing it._

_"Is that supposed to be a horseshoe?"_

_I whipped around so suddenly in surprise that I actually flung the hammer at my customer but he picked it neatly out of the air "I only ask because my horse needs shod."_

_I ran a hand across my forehead to clear away the sweat before answering not even really seeing the man "I don't know how to make horseshoes.  You need to talk to Master Brown."_

_He gave my master a dubious glance before looking back at me "Somehow I rather doubt he'll be of much assistance."_

_I shoved the metal back into the coals "I told you I can't." I was mortified at the tremble in my voice._

_"It will be well young William Turner" he promised as a steadying hand wrapped around my shoulder._

_"How?__  How can it?" I screamed at him.  Part of me was horrified.  I was raging at a customer, a complete stranger but he pulled me in on the first sob.  Damn it I was thirteen years old – nearly a man grown.  I was **not** going to cry like a baby, I wasn't.  Except that I was, but he just rocked me gently as I bawled into his chest.  Wailing for the loss of the father I didn't know, for the mum who'd died in such pain, for the sea captain who for a little while had nearly been a father, and for my shattered hopes of something better here in Port Royal._

_                No one had held me since mum died.  I didn't want to think about her, didn't want to think about them tumbling her without even the benefit of a funeral into pauper's grave.  Unmourned, unlamented by anyone but me. I'd convinced one of the laymen clergy to say a few words and to spell out her name on a scrap of rag.  I carved it into a piece of stone, unable to bear the though that she would lie unmarked and forgotten.  I shoved the thoughts away but they just came back.  I was dimly aware that the stranger was humming a lullaby.  The same part of me that was mortally embarrassed wanted to step away and tell him I wasn't a child – I stayed where I was letting him comfort me.  When my blubbering finally ran its course he handed me a deep red silk handkerchief.  Unable to meet his eyes I wiped my nose while wondering why a man dressed in rough homespun would be caring around a silk handkerchief.  _

_"Would you like me to teach you to make horseshoes?"_

_"What?"_

_"Well, young William Turner, it is a rather important thing for a blacksmith to know how to make.  Unless of course you've decided to give up becoming a blacksmith" he rather sounded as if he was hoping I would say just that._

_"If you know how why don't you shoe your own horse?"___

_He gave me an odd smile "I said I'd teach you not that I'd shoe him myself."_

_It was only then that I really looked at the horse beside him "Trojan?  That's Mr. Bolger's horse."_

_"So that was the ass's name.  He shan't be requiring a horse any longer."_

_He clucked to the dapple gray gelding.  I was glad someone had finally gotten Trojan away from Mr. Bolger but I marveled at how well mannered he was as the green-eyed stranger ran a careful hand over his prominent, whip scarred ribs.  Mr. Bolger had sworn either he'd break the horse or the horse would break him.  He'd flogged him first and when that didn't work he'd starved him.  The only time Master Brown had ever raised a hand to me was when Mr. Bolger had caught me sneaking Trojan a little water and grass.  Mr. Bolger owned the shop and could turn us out at any time particularly since Master Brown was drinking away what little profit the shop turned. _

_"Would you?"_

_He gave a sweeping, elegant bow all out of keeping with his rough homespun cloths "It would be my privilege, young William Turner."_

_I smiled at the odd fellow "It's just Will."  I started to pull the iron I'd been hammering back out of the fire._

_"Not that one" he had tilted his head to the side "It wants to be a sword, I think, I was always better with gems than metals."_

_"Do you know how to make swords?" I asked eagerly._

_He gave the forge a chary look "It's been a very **long** time" I could feel myself deflating "but the Master of Sword I studied under was also a Master Sword Smith and I happen to possess copies of his treatises on the art."_

_So close – and yet still out of reach "I can't read."_

_"**That** is certainly easily remedied, young William Turner.  If you would be so kind as to help me restore poor Trojan's abused hooves I will teach you both reading and sword play and assist you as I may in the pursuit of becoming a Master Sword Smith – do we have an accord?"  
It couldn't be real could it?  I must be dreaming or he was lying but I took his hand anyway and shook on it. _

_                Horseshoes turned out to be surprisingly easy and Trojan was a perfect gentleman never once so much as putting his ears back much less biting or kicking.  It was like seeing a completely different horse than the one that had spent the last month chained to the wall.  _

_"I'll be back a half hour past dawn, young William Turner" he said as he started to lead Trojan out of the shop._

_"Wait – you know my name but I don't know yours."_

_He scratched Trojan's neck "So you're the Trojan horse are you?" He gave me a teasing smile "Noman am I."_

_Strange, very strange but I'd learned more about my trade today than I'd learned in nearly nine months with Master Brown._

_                I was up long before dawn the next morning praying last night hadn't been some strange fantasy.  Please God, I can't take another disappointment.  _

_"Breakfast?" inquired a voice **behind** me.  I whirled wondering how in the world he'd gotten behind me.  Noman's green eyes were dancing with silent laughter.  My stomach gurgled in response.  I'd been far too nervous to eat. _

_ Noman's lips twitched "I'll take that as a yes." He waved toward the shop "Shall we?"_

_He set the steaming tray between us and opened the thick book he'd been balancing the tray on with a far away look._

_"Maddewch I mi, fy iawn anwylyd cyfaill" he whispered softly as he ran a hand over a page._

_"Your pardon?"__ I asked once I'd swallow another bite of the best breakfast I'd ever had._

_He shook his head "Just remembering my old master."_

_He didn't have to say that the man was dead – it showed in his eyes._

_"He loved the forge almost as much as he loved weapon's work" he shook off his melancholy with visible effort.  "It's been a very, very long time since I was at the forge" he said apologetically "and what time I did spend there I spent more to be in his company than because I had any real desire to learn the fine art of metallurgy."_

_"But you told me exactly how to do the horseshoes" I protested as the food suddenly turned to ice in my belly._

_"Horseshoes I've had a fair bit of practical experience at through the years.  The last time I forged a sword I was younger than you.  Ah, ah chin up – I have the full life's work of the best sword smith to ever live and while I may be a fool no one has ever claimed I wasn't quick witted and I think you will prove an able student.  If a sword smith is your wish a sword smith it shall be.  Have a little faith, young William Turner."_

_"It's just" I played with my eggs "it's hard."_

_"You're too young, William Turner, to give up hope."_

_"Who are you really?"_

_Those green eyes twinkled teasingly "Your fairy godfather."_

_I looked him up and down – he didn't look like a fairy godfather "I thought you were supposed to grant three wishes and wave a magic wand or something."_

_He laughed "Don't believe everything you hear."  He frowned down at the book, pulled a black quill out of his shirt, and made a notation "Don't believe everything you read either.  I'd forgotten just how bad my penmanship was back then."_

_"Back when?"_

_"He had me start translating his volumes into English when I was nine.  I never did finish that assignment" he shrugged "sleep is overrated anyway."_

_"It's not in English?" the knot that had just started to loosen tightened again._

_"This one is, more or less, the other three aren't, yet, which is why I shan't be getting much sleep for the next few weeks."_

_I felt my eyes going round as I looked at the size of the book he was leafing through "Three?"_

_"Well, I only plan on copying the relevant material.  I very much doubt the sections on the strategic purposes of heavy horse or siege engines would be of much use or interest to you."  His gaze flickered back to me "If you're finished we should start your weapons training."_

_If I hadn't been finished I was now._

_Noman sighed and for just an instant his eyes seemed ancient "So eager, young William Turner, to learn the killing dance?  I wonder what kind of world it would be if we were all a little less eager."_

_"I just want to know how to defend myself" I rebutted chin held high._

_His lips twitched but it wasn't a smile and his eyes were tired "That's what we all say." _

_ I looked around expecting a set of practice blades or something "Where are the swords?"_

_"We begin, young William Turner, with footwork."_

_I groaned._

_This time his eyes were at least honestly amused "Be glad, young William Turner, that I am **not **Mannwan else it would be footwork for a **year**."_

__

_                I sighed and rolled my aching shoulders.  A set of firm but gentle fingers swiftly worked out the knots._

_"Thank you" I said as I set the hammers back in their place.  I was so tired I could curl up on the floor of the shop and sleep the clock round but it was a satisfied, triumphant tired.  Noman picked up the blade and tried to balance it.  It tipped up just a bit but not enough to actually topple it onto the floor.  He then tested the temper.  _

_"Better than my first blade" he allowed with a smile "Mannwan would make you melt it down and reforge it until it was perfect" his smiled wider at my dismayed look "but I'm not Mannwan and this is already a better blade than all but the best officers carry."  He flipped it up and presented it to me with a flourish "Congratulations, young William Turner, on becoming a sword smith in less than a seven day." That teasing light reappeared "Now you just have to sucker someone into buying it."  Both of us looked around as Master Brown groaned once, rose, and shuffled out of the shop._

_"So it does move" Noman observed wryly "I was beginning to wonder."_

_"Useless bastard" I muttered under my breath._

_Noman leaned back against the shop wall looking nearly as tired as I felt "Once upon a time when I was older than you but a good bit younger than I am now I met someone a bit like Master Brown.  Well, stumbled over him actually, nearly literally, in a gutter but I thought he might be useful so I cleaned him up and dried him out enough for him to manage to string a sentence together.  Bledri was so far gone when I found him he couldn't even buy another drink."_

_He went silent._

_"What kind of name is Bledri?" I asked, for that matter I wondered what kind of name was Mannwan?_

_"I suppose you could say it's Welsh, sort of.  For years I insulted, belittled, and generally used Bledri as my own personal carpet and then I found out **why** he drank himself into a stupor.  And I was more than a little ashamed.  Long before I was born Bledri was the faithful servant of a king but he discovered that the king's only son and heir was committing horrible crimes.  He reported those actions to his king expecting that the prince would be punished.  But you see the king only had one son and so instead of punishing him he banished Bledri.  For some years Bledri lived and lived well in his exile.  He missed his wife, his home, and his children of course but he thought they were better off where they were.  Then something unexpected happened – the prince's wife bore twins, one died but the other was secretly hidden elsewhere.  You see the prince was justly terrified that if his father should find himself with an alternative heir he would be removed from the succession.   But Blood will tell and when the prince discovered his rival he chose to remove his father."_

_I gasped "He murdered his own father?"_

_"There's an old saying, young William Turner, 'kings do not love the princes who will supplant them nor do princes love the kings who thwart them.'  In the halls of power there is little room for love.  No few kings have fallen by the hand of their sons and no few princes by the hand of their fathers."  He shrugged "and I suppose there is even a rough justice in it.  The old king knowingly let his son rampage and in the end paid the price."_

_"And the other heir?"___

_"That is a story as yet unfinished" he replied enigmatically "but it is of Bledri I wish to speak.  You see the old king had been protecting Bledri's wife and children from the prince and with his death new king was free to do with them as he wished.  He destroyed them all, by as appallingly a means as he could find while making very sure Bledri knew how and why and then he" he shook his head letting the thought trail off.  "You know Bledri never had to speak of what happened.  The prince's crimes were not against anyone for whom Bledri cared.  But he spoke out because what was happening was **wrong** and every day Bledri faces the knowledge that his entire family is dead because he did what was **right**.  While I rather doubt Master Brown's life holds a tragedy on the scale of Bledri's no child wakes up and says 'when I grow up I want to drink myself insensible everyday and make a shambles of my life'.  When a man drinks like that it is to hide from a pain that either he does not wish to or can not face.  If he does not wish to then he is to be pitied for his cowardice, if he can not then his fate is to be mourned.  Either way, young William Turner, it is unwise to judge that of which you know not."_

_"But it's not just his life" I protested weekly "it's mine now too. Why did he take me as apprentice if he had no intention of teaching me?"_

_"No man an island" Noman mused from his perch against the wall "I don't know.  Maybe he just wanted another set of hands or maybe he thought you would give him a reason not to kill himself by inches."_

_"Or maybe he doesn't have a bloody clue about blacksmithing" I sounded sulky even to myself._

_"No" Noman gestured up the hill "Governor Swann may not be much of a judge of men but he knows paper.  Master Brown must have offered convincing credentials.  He may not want you anywhere near his daughter but he isn't against you either, young William Turner.  At some point Master Brown must have cleaned himself up enough to present a convincing case" he sighed "whether either of them did right by you is an open question but Master Brown wanted you here."_

_"Really?"__ I asked as I blinked owlishly at Noman, my eyes were sliding shut no matter how hard tried to keep them open._

_"Really" Noman replied firmly and then chuckled "Pleasant dreams."  I felt myself lifted gently and carried off to bed…_

_                I sat bolt upright on my pallet as I realized the sun was long up.  I scurried down to the shop, burst through doors, and came to a sliding stop in shock.  I proceeded more cautiously, watching for the intruders that had tied up Noman._

_"Good morning" he mumbled cheerily around the pick in his mouth.  The lock in front of him snicked open, he spat out the pick and slid the blindfold off of one eye with his shoulder revealing one of those green eyes "I was thinking we should go swimming today now that you're awake."_

_"But we have work to do" he was awfully merry for being trussed up like a Christmas goose "Who, why are you?"_

_"Six days thou shalt labor and on the seventh thou shalt rest" he said as he squirmed out of one set of ropes "All work and no play makes young William Turner a very dull boy."_

_Sunday, oh drat, I'd missed church.  I slumped down on the stones.  I promised mum I'd go.  He flipped himself around to face me better._

_I jumped up – how could I have not offered before? "Don't worry I'll get you loose."_

_"Don't" he rebutted "that would make the exercise rather pointless."_

_"You did this to yourself?"_

_"It was only the Wind and I here until you came in" he answered as the blindfold and another loop of rope slipped free.  I wasn't sure which was crazier (or more impressive) that he'd gotten himself into that mess or that he actually seemed to be getting loose._

_"Why?"_

_"For the same reason I was picking the lock – it wouldn't do to get out of practice."_

_I wasn't sure how to respond to that so I settled for "I can't swim."_

_He looked absolutely horrified "Well, **that** simply will **not** do, young William Turner."_

_"It's **just WILL.**"_

_"It still won't do **just WILL**, and what is amiss?" _

_"I missed church."_

_"Your pardon" he tried to give one of those bows of his but it didn't work terribly well with both hands still tied behind his back "had I known I would have awakened you."_

_"Why are you tied at both the wrists and the elbows?"_

_"Because any jailor or executioner worth his salt knows that a desperate enough man can free himself if only bound at the wrists and only a very great fool binds a man's hand in front of him." He shook his head and a slender blade slipped out of his dark hair.  He caught it and made short work of the remaining ropes.  "Not many people remember to check hair for hidden weapons.  You should grow yours out."_

_"That would be dishonest" I replied chin raised.  _

_He shrugged "As you like."_

_"When they hang the pirates they only bind their wrists in front of them."_

_"That's because your executioner likes to give the crowd a bit of sport.  It's hard to do a proper gallows dance with your hands bound securely behind you.  You'll note with the drops he does that most of them strangle – another way to draw out the entertainment."_

_His voice was utterly neutral but I could feel a flush spreading over my face as I remembered cheering as men died.  I wasn't going to be ashamed – I wasn't.  They were just filthy thieving murderers.  It was **justice**.  And I hated them._

_"Now what do you say to breakfast and a swimming lesson?"_

__

_"Honestly, **just WILL** do I have to drag you in?" _

_I shuffled my feet in the sand not wanting to admit I was terrified of the water.  Trojan gave me a push with his muzzle.  Truth told I'd forgotten Noman even had the horse until I'd seen him grazing in the little cove and looking utterly contented. _

_He cocked his head to the side "She's going to think you don't like Her."_

_"She who?"___

_He waved a hand encompassing the ocean "The Sea."  He sat down kitty corner to me in the sand with his bare feet in the gently lapping waves "You wouldn't want to hurt Her feelings now would you?"_

_I hadn't realized Noman was a sailor until that moment – only sailors talk that way about the sea.  It was more than just the words it was the mix of awe and longing that only true old salts have._

_"It's just so big and so deep" 'and it has some many **things** in it' I thought but didn't voice._

_"Aye, **She** is that.  There aren't many things, **just WILL**, in this world that make me feel trifling but She does.  Men call Her fickle and cruel but they don't know Her and She doesn't know them." He dropped back on his elbows with his head thrown back and his long braided queue drifting in the wavelets.  "They don't realize how vast and timeless She truly is.  All rivers ultimately flow to Sea, all rain clouds are born of Her substance and return to Her.  There is no malice in Her but She is only dimly aware of all that passes both on Her surface and within Her depths." He looked back at me "Would you blame the Fire in your forge **just WILL** if it burned you?"_

_"Of course not."___

_"Then why do you blame the Sea when men are lost in Her depths?  Why do you blame Her for being what She is?"_

_"I wouldn't jump into it either"_

_"Fair enough" he allowed "If She promises not to drown you will you venture forth?"_

_"You can't speak for the sea."_

_"No, but I can speak to Her.  That She hears me both uplifts and humbles me."_

_"You're mad."_

_He laughed an odd sound like the wind in waves "Why is it people insist on telling me what I already know?  Again, **just Will**, if the Sea promises not to drown you will you learn to swim?"_

_I felt the hair on the back of my neck suddenly stand at attention and for the first time I wondered if that quip about being my fairy godfather had been meant in more than jest._

_I wrapped my arms around my knees, hid my face, and finally confessed "I'm afraid."_

_"Fears left to fester eventually strangle you" he said as he rose and offered me his hand "My word **just WILL** whatever else happens in your life you will not drown..."_

__

_"__Elizabeth__!"_

_"Will!"_

_"Monkey!"___

_"I can't move it!"_

_Trapped! With water rushing in on every side.  'You lied to me' my mind shouted at the green-eyed man who'd vanished out of my life so long ago.  I flailed, diving, searching for a way out.  I can't die, not now I have to save __Elizabeth__.  I can't they'll kill her.  I love her, I can't let the pirates have her.  Lungs burning, screaming for air, vision graying out…  Air and light!  How?  A cry from above – __Elizabeth__! I scramble madly up the side of the Black __Pearl__ my miraculous appearance beside her forgotten…_

__

_"Sharks!"__ I shouted and turned frantically back to shore.  We were never going to make it out of the chest deep water in time!_

_"Dolphins" Noman countered catching my arm before letting out a series of clicks and squeals._

_I held my breath as they surrounded us with their fishy bodies while Noman beamed in delight.  Noman produced a ball from somewhere and tossed it.  They sped off clicking and squealing and then circled the cove as they jockeyed for possession of the ball before one of them tossed it back to Noman with his nose.  Noman caught it and threw it to me.  I nearly dropped it in a panic as they swam around me. _

_"Throw it" Noman yelled as he swam back away from me and raised his hands.  My toss fell short and the dolphins reclaimed the ball, their sleek gray bodies flashing in and out of the water.  One of them rolled and flipped the ball back to Noman using his tail.  He caught it neatly and tossed it back to me.  I was more prepared this time and tossed it to the smallest dolphin who promptly zipped off while trying to keep it steady on his nose.  He turned and shot the ball back to me which I passed to Noman who tossed it to a different dolphin.  We passed the better part of an hour gamboling with the dolphins before the little one nudged me with his nose.  I looked at Noman in confusion._

_"He's offering you a ride."_

_"What?"_

_He clicked to one of the others, grasped the dorsal fin, and let the dolphin pull him over to me._

_"Here hold him like this.  No" he readjusted my hands and pushed away.  _

_"Wha" I started to ask before the little dolphin took off._

_"Relax" Noman called as his own dolphin came alongside "and enjoy."_

_We circled the cove before coming to a stop.  The dolphins slipped away as quickly as they'd come.  I sloughed back up onto the beach and flopped onto the sand.  Noman followed looking as reluctant to leave the water as I had been to enter it._

_"Still alive **just WILL**?" he asked lightly as he handed me bread and cheese from a prepacked basket._

_"How many times must I ask you to call me Will?"_

_"At least one more?" he suggested with a smile as he sat with his feet in the water._

_"Noman" I grumbled._

_He sighed "Call it a personality quirk but I can't seem to use the same name for two different people, at least not two I favor.  Will has been taken for a very long time.  For that matter so has William and Turner doesn't truly fit you."  He tilted his head and that teasing glint reappeared.  It wasn't a malicious teasing like I'd seen far too often in others but more as if he was laughing at a joke no one else understood "Cennan" he pronounced "I shall call you Cennan."_

_'How on earth' I wondered 'do you get Cennan from William Turner?'_

_"You could call me Bill" I suggested tentatively._

_He shook his head "That's your father."_

_I stared at him in shock for several breaths.  I'd given up even asking about him because no one anywhere seemed to have even heard of him much less seen him._

_"You know my father?"_

_He scratched Trojan's chin "I came to __Port Royal__ for one reason only, Cennan."_

_The horse snorted almost sounding indignant.  Noman smiled "Don't fuss, you're a fine animal and you deserve better than to be owned by that ass but I didn't come here for you."_

_"Did he send you?  Do you know where he is?"  My lunch was forgotten as I leaned forward eagerly.  HE KNEW MY FATHER!_

_He flushed "It is somewhat embarrassing to admit, Cennan, that I seem to have lost track of him.  If I knew where he was it would be him here and when I leave I'll most assuredly be keeping a weather eye out for him."_

_"You're leaving then?"  I was crushed – I'm cursed no one stays._

_He cupped my chin raising my head so I was looking him in the eye "I'm sorry to hurt you but I can't stay.  I can not, it isn't really a choice."_

_The horse made a sound of protest._

_"Don't worry, I'll find you an owner that will appreciate you before I go."_

_Trojan shook his head and laid his chin on Noman's shoulder "I can't take you with me either boy."_

_I wasn't sure if he was addressing me or the horse._

_"I'm not leaving this instant you know" he said "I promised, Cennan, to teach you to reading and sword play and we've barely started.  And I promise I'll stay as long as I can."_

_"Then he didn't send you" I said to my knees – I'd hoped that maybe if he couldn't come himself he'd sent a friend._

_"He wanted me to go with him back to __London__ when he received word your mother was ill but I couldn't."_

_My head snapped back up.  He'd gone to __London__.  After so many years he'd come home.  I remembered all the long nights when my mum prayed for his safety out on the sea and that one day we'd be together again.  But we'd never had any word – just a single golden coin that I'd lost to the sea on that horrible day on the Good Hope.  He'd come home too late._

_"When I realized the two of you had missed each other I decided to do what I could for you."_

_"You must be good friends" I said faintly – I was **not** going to bawl in front of him a second time._

_"We've had our differences" Noman replied rubbing his neck "but all in all he's a good man."_

_"What's he like?"  Mum had told me about him – but she was my mum and she loved him – I wanted to hear what a man had to say._

_Noman looked me up and down "I'd say that you favor him a great deal but you must have your mother's eyes and hair.  He's a quiet man, doesn't like to be the center of attention but he's a very good listener.  Considerate, he has a tendency to know what you want done even before you ask.  Hard working, honest, honorable, loyal, and with a great deal of good sense.  Doesn't get angry easily and only rarely lets his temper get away from him.  Smart but not terribly original or necessarily quick on his feet.  And he's the best marksman with a gun I've ever seen, and I've seen quite a few."  He pulled me to my feet "Now it's time we got back to work…"_

__

_                "Who are you?" Master Brown slurred as we stepped back into the shop._

_"Journeyman Noman" he replied with a flourish "but newly come to study under you and assist in the training of your apprentice."_

_Master Brown grunted "Could use some help with the lad, can't pay much though."_

_"The privilege of studying under so talented a master is payment enough."_

_I blinked at Noman amazed at how easily that flattering falsehood fell convincingly from his lips._

_Master Brown nodded and collapsed back into his accustomed chair._

_"Where did that donkey come from?" I asked quickly in hopes of getting a response before he passed out again._

_"Went to pay Bolger and found him wandering loose.  Thought he might be useful…" he mumbled before he drifted away._

_"What am I going to do about him?"  I asked Noman who spread his hands._

_"I don't know what to tell you, Cennan.  I've seen men in even worse states pull themselves back together for the sake of someone who was willing to reach out and I've seen men with all reason and help in the world not."  He shook his head "What you do or don't do for Master Brown is up to you but you can't change him only he can do that.  All you can do is try to give him a reason to change."_

_I went over and patted the donkey "What should we call him?"_

_"Mr. Bolger" Noman replied._

_"Why?"_

_"He's an ass" Noman said all but rolling his eyes.  The donkey laid back his ears and glared at him._

__

_                "Back him up a little more" Noman called.  I stroked Trojan's velvety nose and complied.  Mr. Bolger laid back his ears snapped at Trojan's flank._

_"Keep it up, jack ass" Noman threatened "and I'll geld you.  It's you who should have been gelded to begin with."_

_He patted Trojan's dark muzzle "What a crime."_

_"What?"_

_"You don't realize what he is" Noman unhitched Trojan and led him forward "This is the finest Andalusian I've ever seen and that ignoramus gelded him for no better reason than he didn't know how to handle an exceptional horse."_

_He sighed and started unbuckling the harness "Hitch the ass up and let's see if it works."_

_I gave the gears a dubious look "Do you think we have it right?"_

_"Well, it matches the book" Noman didn't sound much more confident than I felt._

_He turned to the door with his hand dropping to the hilt of his exquisite dragon dagger.  I froze but his hand dropped away before the door even opened.  Major Arnold stepped stiffly in._

_"I would like to speak to Master Brown."_

_Noman's__ light good humor vanished to be replaced by a deferential seriousness "I'm terribly sorry but Master Brown is unavailable.  Might I be of some assistance?"_

_The major sniffed disparagingly "And who might you be?"_

_"Journeyman Noman, at your service" he said with slight inclination of the head._

_"I had expected to speak with a **Master**, but I require the services of a blacksmith and I suppose the task is not overly difficult."  He arched brow and stepped further into the shop "I didn't realized Brown was a sword smith."_

_"To the best of my knowledge he isn't" Noman replied with just a hint of pride.  _

_"Ah" the major picked up the sword I'd finished only this morning.  He gave it an experimental swing, checked the balance and the temper and glanced back at Noman with more respect.  "A plain blade but a well made one. How much?"_

_Noman named a price that had both of our eyebrows raised._

_"Think highly of yourself, don't you Journeyman?  Why should I pay that much for a journeyman's blade?"  
"Because it's a perfectly balanced blade of well tempered folded steel.  That blade will stand up to more battles than I'd wager you'll survive.  Unlike that bit of flashy trash you're currently wearing that will be the death of you if you don't replace it." _

_Arnold__ unbent a bit and almost smiled before remembering that he was a marine major "You'll do, Journeyman Noman, by Jove, you'll do."_

_Noman tilted his head "And for what shall I do?"_

_"Our old cells were damaged in the earthquake some years ago and we've been making do ever since.  I've decided that new cells are an imperative.  I'd like an estimate both of cost and completion time by this evening, Journeyman."  He counted out the coins for the sword and they shook on it._

_Noman dropped the coins into my hand the instant he was gone "I hope you don't mind Cennan but your swords will fetch a better price and be more likely to sell if you use another name until you're grown."_

_I hardly heard him.  ONE OF MY SWORDS HAD SOLD!  I grinned at him like an idiot and he ruffled my hair._

_"Let's go take a look at the good major's cells."_

__

_                Noman sighed like someone who had just had the weight of the world put on his shoulders._

_"You can't do this alone, Cennan.  This won't be an easy job even for two."_

_"Master Brown" I began but Noman shook his head._

_"Master Brown can barely buy his own rum."_

_"But you can help" I offered eagerly.  We were in dire straights which Noman knew even better than I since he'd been teaching me figures using the shop's books in the evening._

_He closed his eyes and I felt my guts knotting up again.  While he'd guided my hands more than once he'd never actually touched hammer or iron in all the weeks he'd been teaching me._

_"Alright Cennan, let's write the good major's estimate and get started in the morning."_

__

                Noman set his hammer aside and all but fell back against the wall.  He wiped the sweat from his brow with a rag and eyed the grate we'd just finished.

_"Always hated cells" he commented before gulping water and then upending the bucket over his head.  "A sword may be crafted for the sole purpose of killing someone but at least it has a certain elegant beauty.  That is just plain ugly."_

_"Would you prefer we just let criminals roam free?"  I snapped back._

_Noman shrugged "I've seen as many innocent men in cells as guilty ones in my life."_

_"Innocent men have nothing to fear from the justice of the law" I rebutted._

_He pinched the bridge of his nose "No offence, Cennan, but the law has very little to do with justice."_

_"You don't believe in justice?"_

_He shrugged "I would like to believe in justice, I've just seen very little of it."  There was a stiffness in him when he shoved himself back to his feet "Less chatter, more work let's get this done."_

__

                I was concerned.  Noman pretended nothing was wrong but I'd watched mum pretend she was fine for three years before she died.  He was better at it than she was but I knew the signs.  At first I'd just assumed it was aching muscles from unfamiliar work but it was more than that.  That laughing glint had faded from his eyes being replaced what looked to be a bone deep weariness.  I wondered again about that fairy godfather comment and the stories about fairies not being able to tolerate cold iron.  Except he'd forged swords himself before so that didn't make sense.  He nearly dropped his end of the cell wall we were shimming into place.

_"Let's take a break" I suggested._

_He just blinked dully at me as if he didn't even quite understand what I'd said.  Forget concerned, I was suddenly deeply worried._

_"We could go down to the beach."_

_More incomprehension.__  I settled for steering him in the direction of the little cove just outside of town that he seemed to favor.  Trojan threw up his head and galloped happily over to us with his snow white tail flowing behind him like a flag.  I shoved his muzzle away before he could drizzle half chewed grass all over me again.  He snuffled in disappointment and then nudged Noman who patted him absentmindedly.  The horse's ears flickered back and I swear there was an accusation in those brown eyes.  I gave him another restrained shove in the general direction of the water, not really sure what I expected a dip in the ocean to do but for some reason certain that this was the right thing to do.  _

_"You might want to take off your boots."_

_He blinked at me and then looked down at his feet.  So there was still something working behind those blank eyes.  A wave brushed over his hand when he knelt to slip off a boot and the difference was startling.  He was just suddenly **there** again.  The eyes that had been dead glittered with life and he took a quick glance around._

_"I rather think a short break would be an excellent idea though it might upset our schedule a bit."  _

_So he had heard me "The Dominant's in port for a refit – they can use its brig until we're finished."_

_"Quite right" he started to step forward and I felt my heart sink._

_"Your boots and dagger" I reminded._

_"Ah, yes, how absent minded of me" he glanced around and moved up the beach a bit before half stripping and sinking into a natural pool with a deep sigh. "Care to join me?"_

_I shook my head and noticed the little black ship in the cove for the first time._

_"Where?"___

_"That's Peregrine, he's mine.  I moved him up the coast last week while you were in church" He laid back as if he was trying to become one with the water._

_I could have sworn I heard a muttered 'did not' as I settled down with my feet dangling into the same pool._

_"May I?" I asked with my hand hovering over that exquisite hilt._

_His eyes went wary and I thought he was going to say no "Don't touch the edge, not even to test it and mind Angnar.  He has a tendency to nip."_

_"Angnar?"___

_"The red dragon."___

_I slipped my hand around the surprisingly light hilt.  The gleaming white blade whispered free and every hair on the back of my arm stood at attention._

_"It's not steel."_

_Noman's__ eyes had disconcertingly rolled back in his head but he still answered "Dragon's tooth."_

_"What?"_

_Thankfully his eyes rolled back as he looked over at me "Legend holds that Risanca was forged over eight thousand years ago from a tooth of the white dragon Nimrais."_

_"A dragon's tooth?"__ I repeated skeptically._

_He shrugged while pushing across the pool so he could face me "That's the legend."_

_"The pastor says the world is only six thousand years old."_

_"I'm sure he does."_

_"You think it's older?"_

_"Yes, but then your pastor is only guessing himself since the Bible never says how long Adam tarried in the garden."_

_I let the blade slip back into its sheath and really studied the red and white dragons for the first time._

_"So these are Angnar and Nimrais?"_

_"We should be getting back to work" he started to pull himself out of the pool._

_"Tell me the legend" I said quickly.  His eyes were clearer than they'd been in days and if the sea was the reason I wanted to keep him in it a bit longer.  He settled back with a what sounded more like a muffled groan than a sigh.  He tilted his head to the side.  His eyes were still slightly unfocused._

_"Ten thousand years ago the Great Ice that had long covered the Land of the Mighty began to melt."_

_"Your legend says that all of __England__ was buried under ice?" I think I'd have an easier time believing in dragons._

_"It was" there was utter conviction in voice and eyes "Earth remembers long and for those with eyes to see the scars of the Great Ice are quite plain.  But it's irrelevant to the tale.  The last four dragons Angnar, Nimrais, Cranak, and Mallith made war for Yns Pyrdain the Land of the Mighty until it was feared that all the lands should be pulled asunder and utterly destroyed.  So a bold young man and two of his friends went forth to treat with the dragons.  They were not expected to return but the dragons in their horrible battles had mortally wounded each other and Angnar the Red, Cranak the Golden, and Mallith the Black each chose one of the young men as his champion.  Nimrais the White held himself aloof claiming that none was worthy and he would choose his champions from generations as yet unborn.   To each man and his followers was granted the magic of the dragons so that it should not fade from the earth.  Each of the young men became a king and their people became the Ellyllon.  The PenThalions came to rule Avalon, the PenBrithons ruled Lantis and the PenNaiths led Llyonesse.   But the war the dragons had begun continued among their successors until the Penthalions alone remained." Noman shrugged "It is said that the restless ghosts of the dragons drive men to war.  Pa un draig dichlyn chwi?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"Which dragon chose you?  All of my people are held to belong to Angnar save those rare few that Nimrais chooses." He closed his eyes and began to chant_

And every year the bairns come  As they have come before 

_To learn the Way and the dragon lore.___

_And the aged shake their heads_

_For those who shall not die in their beds._

_The chosen of Nimrais.___

_When Nimrais chooses the poets leap_

_And the bairn's beloveds weep_

_For no restful sleep _

_Under earth dark and deep_

_Awaits the chosen of Nimrais_

_Nimrais__ chooses only the bold and brave_

_To drag down into an early unmarked grave.___

He shall find only grief 

_And fortunate is he whose life is brief  _

_Who is chosen of Nimrais._

_A great name_

_And everlasting fame_

_But unto darkness he early came_

_And we know upon whom to cast the blame._

_Ill-fated are the chosen of Nimrais_

_"It's the Alawthu a Mallory, the Lament for the Ill-fated."  He pulled himself swiftly out of the water, dressed, and belted the dagger back around his waist._

_"I seem to recall a certain cell block we have yet to finish and I've rambled on **far** too much."_

His eyes were finally clear and some of that teasing light was back.

__

_                "Where did we get these hinges?"  he looked at them as if they were something with too many legs that had crawled out from under a rock._

_"We already had them in the shop.  Why?  What's wrong with them?"_

_"They're not half –pin barrel hinges that's what."_

_"What's a half-pin barrel hinge?"_

_Noman__ laid a hand on his forehead and moaned theatrically "I've failed.  Over two months and you don't know a half-pin barrel hinge?"_

_I searched my memory frantically but to the best my recollection we'd never spoken of hinges much less ones of the half-pin barrel variety "I'm sorry."_

_He smiled, eyes merry if weary "It's alright Cennan.  We've spent so much time on weapons we've done far too little else.  If it wasn't for these butt-ugly, thrice benighted cells you'd probably end up knowing nothing but horseshoes and swords."  He frowned "Let's get these back to the shop and put some proper hinges on them."_

_"But we could be finished today" I protested._

_"I seem to recall someone mentioning that the Dominant's brig is available and the hinges won't take long.  We'll be done in the fore __noon__ watch tomorrow."_

_"Why do they have to be half-pin barrel hinges?"_

_"I'll show you tomorrow."_

__

                "Why do you insist on staring at me?" Noman asked the shaggy dog as if he expected an answer.  "Go on, shoo, scat, get, vamoosh."

"He isn't hurting anything."

Noman glared at the dog with his hands on his hips.  He handed the dog the ring of keys "Here do something useful if you aren't going to move."

"You said you'd show me why we had to have half-pin barrel hinges."

He picked up the bench and hooked it in between the bars "Because with the right leverage and the proper application of strength the door will lift free."

I just blinked at him "We just built cells that are **designed** for escapes?"

"No, technically we just built cells that are designed for rescues.  You really can't get the proper leverage from inside even if the jailer was kind enough to give you a bench."

"Do you spend a lot of time breaking people out of cells?"

"I don't think I should answer that question" he said as he replaced the door with himself on the inside.  He pulled a set of lock picks out of his hair and had the door open in less time than it would have taken me with the key.

"You're not English are you?"

"No" he retrieved the keys from the dog, relocked the cell, and returned the keys to the dog.

 "You're a spy" I whispered.

"Not at the moment and a word to the wise if I were and I knew you'd discovered it I'd have to silence you.  Discretion is the better part of valor, Cennan." He said as he methodically double checked our work.

I sighed with relief.  I'd begun to suspect he was a pirate and that would have been awful.  I'm not sure why I thought a spy was better except that it was.

He nodded his satisfaction "Let's go inform the good major that his cells are finished."

"Aren't you going to get the keys back from the dog?"

"Why?"

                I rolled over restlessly, unable to sleep.  I tossed again and sighed in frustration.  I rose and slipped over to the shop and stopped in the doorway in surprise. 

"You should be asleep, Cennan."

"What are you doing?"

"Translating."

I could barely pick him out in the dark.  I lit a candle and joined him at the table.

"How can you see?"

"I have very good night eyes and I've had a lot of practice."  He gave me a measuring look "Obviously I'm not working you hard enough if you have the energy to be up."

"How many nights have you been over here in the dark?"

"I require very little sleep."

"That wasn't an answer."

"Most. Once I started sorting through my library on the Peregrine I noticed a few other texts I thought you might find useful."

So that was why he'd seemed so tired.

"You should get some sleep."

"I'm not tired."

I licked my lips, it sounded very convincing, if I hadn't seen him, if I hadn't watched my mum, I'd have even believed it.

"You shouldn't lie when you can get caught in it" that was a bit of advice my mum had taught me with a wooden spoon.

Something flashed through his eyes and for the first time I was afraid of him.  It wasn't as if I hadn't known he was dangerous.  Over two months of three hours a day of weapons lessons had taught me just how good he was with a blade but I'd never actually thought of him as a killer before.  He just didn't have that edge you see in hardened men, until now.  It vanished as rapidly as it appeared.

"I suppose I shouldn't" he allowed "there's no point in my going to bed Cennan, I shan't sleep anyway.  I rarely do."

He went back to writing.

"Why not?"

He didn't reply.

"Fair's fair, what are **you **afraid of?  It can't be the dark."

His lips twitched in a not smile "No, it certainly isn't the dark."  He fiddled with his jet black quill before replying "I have nightmares.  More than three hours of unbroken sleep is a rare gift.  I've had as much as I'm likely to get tonight."  He laid the quill aside, brought his hands together, set his chin on his fingertips, and gave me his full attention. "Now, Cennan what is troubling your sleep this fair night?"

I looked down at my knuckles as they rested on the table "She's gone."

"Why don't you tell me about her?"

I shook my head, I wasn't ready, not even three years later. Three years – it seemed like yesterday. Maybe I never would be to talk about how she died.

"So what would you like to talk about?"

I thought about it.  We'd already talked on several occasions about my father but I decided to ask the question again

"Why did he wait so long to come home?  And why did he leave in the first place if he wasn't always a sailor?"

Noman shook his head "I've told you before – those aren't my tales to tell.  When you meet your father you can ask him."

"But you know and you're here."

"No, Cennan."

I sighed.  He drew the line in the oddest places but I'd learned that once you found one you'd have better luck moving a mountain with a shovel.

"What was he like?"

"Who?"  
I nodded to the books spread on the table before him "Your old Sword Master."

I wanted to take back the question as pain flashed through his eyes.  He looked no more eager to talk about Mannwan than I was about mum.

"I could say that he was tall and strong with hair the color of purest gold and eyes like the cloudless skies but that tells you nothing of the real Mannwan.  Mannwan was honor.  He was obsessed with it.  He did nothing without considering the right and the wrong of it.  His body dedicated to his liege lord, his heart to purest chivalry, and his mind to the forge and all things military.  I wonder what I would have become without Mannwan for he taught me so much more than just swordplay and earth mastery.  Oh mi anwylyd cyfaill what would you think of me?" He paused eyes far, far away "He tried so hard to teach me honor, justice, and loyalty.  Until him they were only words without meaning."

"I thought you didn't believe in justice" I prompted him.

"I don't believe justice is to be found in the courts and the law.  If you had seen even a tithe of the crimes committed by the law that I have you'd not gainsay me.  My oath, mi cyfaill if my hour ever comes I'll change that."  He shook his head "I never cared before him about any man's opinion but a hard word from Mannwan could crush me. I don't bestow my affections nor my respect lightly and few others have held the influence Mannwan had.  He was only my Master for a few brief years.  He was the Captain of my grandfather's Guard before he was sent to instruct me and when my grandfather was murdered my sire recalled him."

"You're a lord's son?" I asked dubiously while looking at his rough clothes.

"Something like that but I'd have given everything I've ever owned and all of my legacy to have been a Guardsman's son.  I didn't see him again for years not until the day I met my sire.  And the situation was somewhat different then.  There's very little I wouldn't give for" he stopped "I'm such a fool Cennan.  Do you know what difference is between a wise man and a fool?"

I shook my head.

"It's not that a wise man makes no mistakes it's that he learns from them but I always seem to leave the most important things unsaid.  All my life seems little more than dangling conversations."  He flipped the books shut and rose.

"Where are you going?"

"It will be dawn soon, Cennan.  I thought I'd walk by the Sea and listen to the Wind while the sun rises.  Don't forget we're to shoe the Governor's carriage horses today."

                I was grinning like an idiot.  I knew it but I couldn't seem to stop.  Elizabeth had wheedled her way into coming down and was chatting at me as I worked on shoeing her father's horses.  Whatever I already owed Noman for all he'd done I owed him double now.  He'd rescued me from making a hopeless idiot of myself at least three times, maybe more since I was so busy being starry-eyed I could barely avoid walking into walls much less manage to shoe a horse.  He was laughing at me with his eyes.  Not maliciously but laughing all the same.  He neatly avoided a kick from Bolger.  I didn't understand it.  Every other equine that passed through the doors was perfectly behaved except Bolger. 

"Have you had any word of Mr. Bolger?" the Governor inquired politely of Master Brown who marvel of marvels was actually awake and nearly sober.  The Governor, of course, couldn't have his daughter associating with the blacksmith's lad and the grooms unaccompanied.

"No word at all.  Didn't mention that he was going away either.  Just up and disappeared two months gone."

"Very odd, indeed" the Governor allowed clearly uncomfortable talking to Master Brown but just as uneasy with the silence.

"What does happen to the property ifen he doesn't return?"

"If there is no word for a year and a day then we will attempt to contact his heirs."

The donkey brayed indignantly.

"Nobody asked you" Noman grumbled under his breath around a mouthful of nails.

He dropped the last hoof and gave the big gray mare a sugar cube "That's a girl.  All done sir."

I shot him a glance but he shrugged as if to say we'd stalled enough.  Elizabeth was leaving.  The day was suddenly bleaker.

                "Where have you been?" I demanded.  It was long past sunrise.

"Delivering Trojan to Mr. Avery."

My eyes widened at the sight of the books under his arm.

"You're leaving."

"I have to."

"No you don't" I snapped to the coals as I heated the blade I'd just started.

"William Turner, please listen to me."

I set the hammer down and turned reluctantly to him.  I didn't want this and had some odd notion that if I didn't actually let him finish he'd stay.  That he wouldn't let this become another dangling conversation.

"It was you the pirates were seeking on the Good Hope."

Me – all that because of me?

"The day will come when they return to finish what they started.  And now on account of her sticky fingers they'll be looking for young Elizabeth Swann as well."

"Elizabeth?" I wrapped my hand around the hilt of the glowing blade.

"An excellent idea" Noman said "but on them not me" as I turned back with the heated sword.

"Sorry."

"You've the makings, Cennan, of a truly great swordsman and I look forward to crossing blades with you again when you've grown a bit more.  Three hours a day, lad, every day, because one day a pirate is going to come looking for you.   I've wrapped the gold in silence until the time is right."

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed "With any luck at all, lad, I'll find your father and you'll never know."  He gaze flickered to the right and his hand tightened around the hilt of his dragon dagger. "I haven't much time."  He set the books on the table "Wind to your sails, Cennan."

"Please don't leave" I hated the begging tone in my voice.

His head snapped to the left as he tensed "I can't stay.  My apologies."

I flung the sword at the doorframe meaning to pin him in the shop but he snapped it out of the air.  My God but I'd never realized just how **fast** he was.

"That's a very good trick but don't try it on me again."

"You're being hunted" I suddenly realized "You're just a bloody pirate yourself.  Just go.  I hate you!"

"Best of luck, Cennan" he said to my back.

I shouldn't have said that, we shouldn't part like that but when I turned back he was already gone.

'Dolphins' was my first thought 'I hear dolphins'.

A light hand moved over my torso.  Noman or Mallory I suppose.  I pretended to still be asleep.  It was probably a futile gesture but I wasn't quite ready to meet those green eyes again.  God but I'd been a total ass.  When you set his actions against the broader picture of Mr. Gibbs' and my father's tales what he'd done for me became even more than I'd thought.  My father had tried to kill him but he'd done his best for me anyway.  Possibly even more than is best.  He must have stayed until the last possible minute why else would he have ended up on the Dominant instead of the Peregrine unless he'd had to choose between a press gang or whatever was hunting him?  And clearly he had trouble with Earth and yet he'd worked in the forge.  How much harm had he done himself?  Only to be rebuffed.  I'd done my level best after he disappeared to forget that he even existed.  And then today - what task had he dropped to come here only to be asked rude questions?  I could feel myself flush.  I was far more of an ass than Mr. Bolger.  Oh my God, the donkey had just shown up right when Mr. Bolger disappeared.  Could it be?    

"Will?" Elizabeth's worried voice asked "Please Will."

I opened my eyes.


	5. Mr Blake?

**Author's note: **A quick thanks to my reviewers.  Welcome to the insanity bubblihead!  Does it still count as originality when you're stealing half the characters from someone else?

My thanks to lyn as well for pointing out some of my worse D'oh moments!!!!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  I have NO excuse for the reins/reigns mix-up.  I use to own horses.  Speaking of reins I need to condition my saddles again…

My apologies for the flashbacks in this chapter (not because they're poorly written just because they don't have much to do with the plot of the **larger** story.)  I could have summarized everything in them into a couple of paragraphs of dialog.  But by the time I realized that they were already written.  I did give them hard pruning but well, I **like** them.  So anyone who's wondering when I'm going to get to the bloody point – skip everything in italics and you'll still be able to follow the gist of the story.  For those who don't mind muddling through my verbiage let me know what you think.  Actually let me know what you think regardless.  And I promise to do less wandering off topic in the next chapter.   Flame me I dare ye!

**Dragon Hunter –** Mallory and Blood of Avalon seem to have chased poor Q Me? completely out of my head for the moment.  But Richard Sharpe is most decidedly slated for an appearance 2-3 more chapters into the story (when they finally get written).  You definitely reviewed chapter 3 but the site ate the review.  Fortunately it emailed it to me prior to devouring it.  Glad you like both the Wind and Peregrine since both will have more to say in later chapters.   I thought I hinted that Will knew _something_ but was too out of his head to put the pieces together and realize that Mallory was Noman until he showed up.  I must have buried it too deep or maybe I accidentally edited it out of existence.  Bad author – no more rum.

**Historical note: See bottom**

**Blood of Avalon**

**Chapter 5: Mr. Blake?**

"You shouldn't be worrying," I said as Noman, as **Mallory** slid his arms up under me and drew me carefully into a sitting position while setting a bucket under my chin.  "It's bad for the baby."  I was going to be a **father**.

"Then you shouldn't be so foolish as to get yourself shot."  

I was going to say that it hadn't been foolish but I started to cough and then to wretch.  Elizabeth turned green and bolted to the rail.  I didn't blame her.  After I finished hacking the funk out of my lungs I started to rise but Mallory pushed me back down. 

"You're not ready to be up yet."

"But I feel fine" if this was his idea of misery I should feel miserable all the time.

"That's because for now you're still drawing on my strength instead of your own.  When that changes I guarantee you won't feel like getting off that pallet."

"But why?" Elizabeth asked. "His wounds are healed."

"Yes, they are, though the bowels were pierced multiple times and he already had a raging septicemic infection.  That is why he's to have **nothing** but broth or very thin soup for the next three days.  I've expunged the infection but my people do not ourselves become ill and I have far more trouble healing disease than injury.  The broth is probably a useless precaution but I would rather not put his innards to the test until they have had a bit of time to settle.  But that is not why he will be exceedingly lethargic for the next few days.  As I said earlier his enaid is exhausted.  I can't replenish it as I can his flesh. I can only support him for a brief time with my own.  When he's regained enough strength to survive without my assistance I will sever that link."

"And why not simply support him until he's completely well?" Elizabeth snipped back.  I love her, I truly do, but she can be so…assertive at times.

"Because it's too dangerous for him madam, as I said earlier I could **kill** him so **very** easily doing this."

Her hand flew to her mouth "I thought it was over."

Governor Swann chose to step into the gap "Then you must stop."

"Do I speak to myself?" he asked with that same cool, clinical detachment he'd had since my less than polite question.  "You would render all that has been done for naught.  Body and enaid support one another.  Deplete one while the other is strong and they compensate. To deplete either beyond a certain point is generally fatal but if one is strong enough it can carry the other beyond the point of what should have been death.  That is why young Mr. Turner survived long enough with Captain Sparrow's assistance for me to arrive and it's how I survived a seventy-seven year fast.  The strength of enaid varies from individual to individual.  It's why one man who appears mortally wounded survives against all odds and another who to human eyes should have survived dies.  The survivor had the stronger enaid.  That is why on rare instances your people actually perform real magic.  You have the seed without the power to carry it through.   It is also what truly separates our peoples.  Pointy ears and cat's eyes aside there is little real physical difference.  We were once of the same race.  It is the strength of our enaid that allows the 'magic' we perform and that gives House Penthalion life spans nearly ten fold yours.  It also allows me to keep young Mr. Turner alive but it is also the danger.  I'm so much stronger that unless I keep my power well leashed I could utterly destroy him."

"Thank you" I interjected when he paused for breath "for everything.  And I'm sorry. Please forgive me for being an ass."

A flicker of surprise, quickly hidden – was he so rarely thanked?  Followed by a graceful bow "You are both quite welcome and forgiven, Cennan."  The tone was warm and I'd stopped being young Mr. Turner but the eyes stayed shuttered.  I wanted those eyes open. I remembered just how easily and convincingly polite lies fell from his lips and I wanted to know that I truly was forgiven.  I found myself suddenly wishing for the friend and teacher from nine years ago.  And I wanted that fencing rematch, badly.  Just not today, I'd had more than enough excitement for one day, please.

"Three days abed, Cennan and not just for your enaid.  I've forced the wounds closed but there are areas still weaker than I like because of the infection.  Promise me?"

"Of course."

"Good lad."

"Ye make it sound as if ye don't plan on staying long" Jack spoke for the first time since I'd awakened.

"Having been recalled simply to perform a favor, Captain Jack Sparrow, I was unsure of my welcome aboard the Black Pearl once I had completed my task" utterly cool, clipped precision in those tones with no indication at all about how he felt about Jack's response.

"Why don't ye stay on for a bit, if ye've nothing pressing?" Jack sounded tentative himself, like the blush it was something I'd have never considered Captain Jack Sparrow being capable of.

"As you like, Captain Sparrow" more cool, graceful formality that could mean anything or nothing. 

He turned back to Elizabeth and took the bowl of what I assumed was broth from her hands.

"My dear dulcet damsel it occurs to me that we have not yet been properly introduced" he gave her a sweeping bow while managing amazingly, perhaps magically, to not spill a single drop of broth "Mallory Adfyw of House Penthalion, Crown Prince of the Ellyllon Kingdom of Avalon, Heir of Sea and Fire, only surviving scion of Tintigalia, Queen of Wind and Shadow, and currently the sole Dichlyn a Nimrais at your service, milady Elizabeth Turner."  He lifted her knuckles to his lips without rising.  I watched carefully wondering how he how could make it look so regal.  While my head knew he wasn't really a middle aged man in rough homespun cotton that's what he looked like and he was still balancing a clay bowl in his other hand.  He should have looked like a laughing stock.  He carried it off with a panache that marked him as more than he appeared.  Elizabeth was thoroughly charmed and I felt a stab of jealousy that I tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to stifle. He flashed a glance at Jack who gave just the slightest nod.

"While you are a vision of loveliness worth of Aphrodite herself and you've Diana's boldness and Athena's wisdom with Vesta thou hath spent far too little time.  It would be my pleasure, nay my privilege, to enhance your knowledge of Hestia's glories and to seek to lessen your accord with Eris." In the midst of prattling and hand waving worthy Jack himself the broth complete with bowl vanished over the side.  He had Elizabeth so mesmerized she never even noticed but after nearly two years of Elizabeth's cooking I knew it was no great loss.  He looped his now free arm around hers and herded both her and several other crew members away chattering like a magpie as they went.

I glanced at Jack in surprise as he watched Mallory sashay off with just a trace of a smile.

"Aren't you going to talk to him?"

"Not the opportune moment, whelp" he replied in that way only Jack can "Don't you worry he and I will be having a few words before all is said and done.  This is your moment.  You and Bill's.  That's why he's distracting the audience as it were."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"I'm here because we both know Ol'Bootstrap.  Without someone te goad him on he'll just bloody sit there and stare at ye."  His attention flickered to my father "So are ye going te talk te the whelp or do I start telling everything I know?"

"Ye wouldn't" my father went pale.

Jack just grinned "Ye'd best start talking because I don't want te miss it when Lizzy slaps him."

"For what?" my father and I asked simultaneously.

"For calling her a bitch that can't cook" Jack said grinning "he hid it well in all that flowery talk but Lizzy's no fool – she'll figure it out eventually."

"Don't let him hurt her" my father looked worried.  I started to rise.  He wasn't going to lay a finger on my Elizabeth without answering for it no matter what I owed him.

Jack pushed me back down "Don't fret lad, he's a pussy cat.  Don't you let Gibbs and your father tell ye any different."

He paused a moment looking at my father "Now, lad let me tell ye about the time me and Ol'"

"I'll handle this, Sparrow" my father cut in. "You just make sure Mallory holds his temper if the lass looses hers."

Jack winked at me before wandering off.  Actually I was inclined to agree with Jack.  Noman had never been anything but a consummate gentleman in the time I knew him but I trusted Gibbs' word and I had no reason to doubt my father either.  

"Don't worry even if Mr. Mallory looses his temper Jack won't and Mr. Mallory would pull himself out o his grave if Jack Sparrow asked it o him.  As long as Jack's there your lass can do whatever she pleases."  He seemed to run out of words and instead stared at his hands.  When I followed his gaze I noticed the clear imprint of slender fingers.  I glanced up at him.

"Something te remember me shame by.  I had no call, son" he paused when he said it and just looked me like he wanted to memorize my face. "You have her eyes.  Her beautiful, beautiful eyes" I could hear him choking up.

"What happened?"

"I was too late" he said simply.  "I finally made it te England a few weeks after she died but ye'd moved lad and it took me a few more weeks te track down where.  I saw the stone ye carved.  The priest showed it te me but he didn't know which workhouse they'd sent ye te and it took me another fortnight te find out which one.  By then ye were gone and no one knew where.  I searched and searched lad but I couldn't find ye.  And then someone told me ye'd shipped out on the Good Hope with old Davis te look fer me.  I signed out on the first ship heading out o Bristol for the Caribbean."

"You knew Captain Davis?"

He nodded "We were mates once for a little while.  He'd been shipwrecked and given a choice between drowning and becoming a pirate for a bit he chose piracy.  Good man, damn that bastard Barbossa." 

"But he didn't say he knew you."

"He just knew me as Bootstrap.  He wouldn't have known who William Turner was" he paused to stare at me again.  It was beginning to get disconcerting.  "And then I heard about what happen te the Good Hope.  I thought ye were gone.  I thought ye were gone and it was all me own bloody fault."  He gathered me up in his arms and I could feel him shaking.  Weeping, my father was weeping.   I wrapped my arms around him and suddenly it was real.  After so many years that I'd given up hope I had my father back.  We might never get back the lost years but we still had today and as many tomorrows as God granted.  I could feel tears pricking the back of my own eyelids and I was once more grateful to Mallory for clearing the decks to give us this time. 

He coughed and cleared his throat "I went as far inland as I could get and ignored every message Mr. Mallory tried te send me.  It never occurred te me he might be trying te tell me ye were alive and then" he sighed and went quiet again.

"But why did you leave to begin with?  And why did Mallory call you Mr. Blake?"

"Because Blake was me name.  Turner was me grandmother's name."

I let the silence continue a bit "Why isn't it William Blake anymore?"

"Did ye hear, son" he paused again to savor the word "when I said me own father sent me off te the court in hopes o finding a patron?"

I nodded.

"I don't know how much ye know about English history, son" a flicker of a grin flashed over his face at the word "but Tom and I came te court in 1685 just after Charles II's death and right in the midst of all the fracas over James II…

_My feet were cold.  Cold and wet.  I shifted a little and got an annoyed glance from Tom as he fussed with his precious white gyrfalcon.  You'd have thought the blasted bird was the love o his life.  I gave me baby brother a look.  The bird was the love o his life.  Princess Anne had insisted on naming her Aurelia, ridiculous name but Tom just took it and the bird with a sappy, love struck grin.  She was a pretty thing in a predatory way.  I shifted again making the birds on the cadge hanging from me shoulders shift as well.  I got a second more aggravated look from Tom.  I rolled me eyes as the gentry on their thoroughbreds clustered around us eager for the flight.  Horses, hawks, dogs, and gentry, I'd spent me whole life surrounded by 'em and didn't much care for any o 'em.  The dogs flushed the partridges, Tom released the gyr, and he and the gentry thundered off leaving me in a cloud o dust with the rest o the assorted falcons and hawks still hanging from me shoulders.  _

_Well, not quite alone.  A riding crop slipped under me chin and forced me head up.  I kept me eyes down as was proper and recognized the lady by her shoes.  "Lady" Sarah Churchill, no lady at all, o course none of them were. I'd learned a bit in me months in the Cockpit with Tom.  __Whitehall__ was a viper's nest I heartily wished neither o us had ever come near.  At least down in the stately houses on the __Thames__ things weren't quite so far gone.  I let the crop turn me unresisting head first te the right and then the left.  Her bay pawed the ground anxious te be off with the rest.  Me Da would never have tolerated such behavior.  The gelding brushed against the cadge and the peregrine tercel on the far corner baited wildly ending up dangling upside down from his jesses.  Tom was going te have bloody fits.  If the white gyr was the love o his life that tercel was going te be the death o him.  Tom and his notions, blast that high strung bird!  I reached out carefully and slipped a hand up under his slate colored wings and righted him.  He screamed at me but thankfully didn't try te foot me this time.  I swear even hooded the birds can tell it's me.  Lady Churchill just watched from her horse without any offer te help o course.  The tercel promptly baited again but returned to his perch this time.   I could hear Tom and our Da arguing over that bloody bird._

_"Falcons are the proper bird for hunting with' our Da would say 'It's the way it's been doon for over a thousand years, son."_

_"But the tercels are faster and more agile.  They can catch a wider variety of prey."_

_"The falcon is larger.  Larger bird larger meal."_

_"Aye, for her.__  The tercels eat less and take more home."_

_"And ye're right and a hundred generations o falconers afore ye are wrong?"_

_"God's right" Tom would say with a grin._

_"What are ye blathering aboot, lad?  O course God's right."_

_Tom's grin would grow even wider "If the falcon is the better hunter then why does she do most o the brooding and sitting while the tercel does the hunting?"_

_"Don't be daft.  She's the ma – tis a female's proper place in the order o things te take care o the young and it has naught te do with her hunting skills.  Now you cast off that tercel and trap a proper peregrine."_

_                Four years later and Tom still had that benighted bird.  Or actually Princess Anne had the bird.  Should Tom ever actually claim one o his beloved falcons as his own it would cost him is left hand.  Not meet, not legal for common scum like us te own 'noble' falcons.  The thought o Tom as naught but an austringer was a crime, pure and simple.  Tom couldn't live without his long-wings which meant Tom was tied te the gentry come hell or high water for the rest o his days._

_                Speaking o gentry she was still watching me.  I'd have liked te hood her.  I cast me mind about for somewhat else te ponder upon whilst I ignored her.  The goshawk spread her wings making the merlin tethered just out o her reach nervous.  There was a jangling o bells as the birds shifted and the tercel fanned me with his wings but didn't quite bait again.  I wanted te bait meself under Lady Churchill's unflinching stare.  Didn't she know it was bloody rude?  O course not – gentry can't be rude te the servant class.  'Lady' Churchill indeed!  They'd been nearly as common as Tom and I afore Sir Churchill had climbed up his sister's petticoats.  What kind o man sells his sister's virtue for better title?  'An ambitious one' I replied te meself as I fought not te squirm 'and a dangerous one'.  Me feet had gone numb.  I was trying te decide if that was a good or a bad thing when the partridges, falcon, dogs, gentry, and Tom all thundered past.  The tercel baited again.  At this rate the stupid bird was going te be too tired te fly once we found some ducks. _

_                From the shouting the gyr had finally made a kill after one heck o a tail chase.  Tom trotted up with his game bag bulging and the gyr back in her place on his fist.  He gave his charges a look and instantly frowned when he saw the tercel's ruffled feathers.  I gave him a quick glance – still feather perfect.  I never would have heard the end o it if he'd actually broken a feather whilst in me care.  I shrugged with me eyes since Tom would have me hide if I upset the birds by shrugging with me shoulders.  _

_"John" Lady Churchill called his lordship over.  "Do you think he'll do to replace Roger?"_

_I'd been mucking their horses' stalls, feeding their hounds, and standing in this cadge for over six months but Lord Churchill looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time.  Damned annoying.  Half the court, all the __Cockpit Circle__, and probably most of the servants in __Whitehall__ knew Tom by name but not a one had noticed the brother standing beside him.  I clamped down hard on the resentment.  Tom had his own troubles and it wasn't Tom's fault and it wasn't mine.  I just wasn't a master falconer and never, ever would be.  _

_"What's your name, man?"_

_"William Blake."_

_He glanced at Tom in surprise and then back at me._

_"I presume you can sit a horse then?"_

_I nodded.  I wasn't going te win any prizes but I wasn't going te land on me arse either._

_"Can you read?"_

_Me heart sank.  The Churchill's wouldn't have been me first choice o patrons but anything was better than mucking stalls for the rest o me life._

_"No sir."_

_"You're quite certain?"_

_"Not a word, sir, not even me own name" I could feel me face going red.  Didn't know why – few o the back hall servants in __Whitehall__ could.  _

_"Excellent  - and can you be discrete?"_

_I blinked at him._

_"Come, man, can you keep your mouth shut?"_

_I nodded, mutely._

_"We'll give it a go then."_

__

_                "Going out again tonight?" Tom asked, eyes worried as he imped Lord Ossory's merlin's broken tail feathers._

_I tugged at the hem o me black jerkin whose fit wasn't quite right "It's what I get paid for."_

_"I don't like it, Bill."_

_The Duke o Buckingham's eyass screamed again._

_"You should cast off that mar-hawk" I said te change the subject._

_"Buckingham wants her" he replied with a shrug._

_"Then why isn't his falconer working with her?"_

_"He's tried.  And the Duke's pride has been pricked it's te be that falcon and no other.  I don't mind given Jim a hand with a bird he can't handle.  Besides she's a challenge.  And stop deflecting, Bill.  Those aren't love letters you're sneaking thought the streets o __London__ tonight."_

_"I don't know what they are" I replied stiffly._

_"Don't be coy.  We may not know how te read but we both know that Lord Churchill's playing a dangerous game and he's got ye doing his dirty work.  Ye get caught with what's in that packet Bill and ye'll be lucky if it's only the gallows."_

_"I won't get caught."_

_Tom sighed in defeat "God speed, brother, God speed."_

__

_                I drifted inte the mews in a fog.  Tom gave me a lethal look when I wandered in on him with Buckinham's little problem child but I blithely ignored him.  He neatly slipped the hood on her in spite o her vigorous protests and drew the braces._

_"Who is it this time?"_

_"What time?"_

_"What's her name?" he was laughing at me but I didn't care._

_"Catherine Hill" I settled inte the chair still remembering her smile – and her eyes those dark, soulful eyes a man could drown in._

_"True love this time huh?"_

_I really shouldn't let me little brother get away with that, I shouldn't, but hitting him would mean breaking the spell o those eyes.  He threaded the falcon's leash through the varvels embossed with the Duke's arms and set her on her perch._

_"Damn – you are smitten aren't ye?  Does the lass in question even know ye exist?"_

_He waved a hand in front o me eyes while smiling._

_"So have ye actually spoken te her or are ye just going te pine over her?"_

_Spoken?  I blinked at him in horror – what was I going te bloody say?  How was I te speak te me angel?_

_This time he outright laughed but he patted me shoulder "Don't ye worry big brother betwixt the two o us we'll trap yer bonny lass."_

__

_                Tom elbowed me discretely and whispered "Don't faint."_

_I felt me spine stiffen in reflex – I'd get him back for that one later.  Me angel, me Kitty was about te come down the aisle.  In the end it had been a full family effort.  I still didn't know what me Da had said to Mr. Hill te convince him te give his blessing te this.  He'd sent her te Whitehall in hopes o her making a fine catch not te marry the son o a groom.  But in the end Da and Matt had managed te out argue a bloody lawyer and I'd won the lass with Tom's help.  Me pride had been a bit dented over that until Ma had threatened te take me over her knee like a wee lad.  Families help each other at least good families do notwithstanding the behavior o our 'betters'._

_All other thoughts vanished from me head as me Kitty appeared…_

__

_                Hot.  It was so hot.  I kicked the covers aside and tried to rise but just slumped back onte the pallet with me head spinning.  Kitty stirred beside me._

_"Bill?" she put an ice cold hand te me forehead and hissed "No, not ye too."_

_She waddled out o the covers most o her grace lost te the wee one she was neigh te being doon carrying.  _

_I tried te get up again and failed. I licked me cracked lips._

_"Ye shouldn't be up.  Ye need yer rest."_

_She wrapped a hand around her swollen belly as she poured me a drink.  She had te hold the cup for me.  I couldn't ever remember feeling so weak.  She lit a candle and sighed in resignation when she saw me._

_"The pox?"__ I whispered._

_She nodded._

_"Ye've got te leave."_

_"I've already had the pox, love, when I was just a wee lass."_

_I knew that.  I'd seen the scars on her back after we wed but I was frightened for her all the same._

_"But yer too close te yer time te be nursing me" I protested._

_"With yer Ma already taking care o yer Da and Matt there isn't anyone else, love."_

_"Tom" I said.  Tom had been wild te study under the Duke o Grafton's falconer a few years gone and the pox had swept through his household whilst Tom was there.  He and Ma had both taken sick and both survived.  Ma had been lucky having only had a light case and few scars.  Tom, well, everyone might like Tom and he might be the best falconer in __Whitehall__ but no woman ever gave his scarred face a second glance.  Oh, please God, don't let me end up like Tom.  It was a horrid thought and I loved me brother but…_

_"Bill" Kitty shook me slightly and I blinked up at her in confusion._

_"Don't you leave me, William Blake, don't you dare."_

_'Of course not' I replied in me head as me senses reeled 'wouldn't dream o it.'_

__

_                "William Blake, brother or not, sick or not, if ye spew this all over me again I'm going te hit ye" Tom threatened._

_"Spew what?" I whispered_

_"You're awake!" He gave me one o his bight as a summer day Tom Blake smiles showing off his perfect white teeth.  I managed not te wince as I remembered what he use te look like.  Please, please._

_"Where's Kitty?"_

_That smile got even wider "With your son."_

_How long had I been delirious?_

_"Me son?"__ I tried te rise but slumped back on the pallet.  It was then I realized I was in Tom's rooms by the mews instead o in me own.  I couldn't remember being moved.  But then I didn't recall anyone telling me Kitty had been brought te bed either._

_"A fine large lad, he and his mother are just fine and will be pleased as punch te hear you're awake."_

_I'd missed me son's birth but knowing both Kitty and the babe were well was like a weight off me chest.  I glanced back at Tom.  There was something he wasn't telling me.  He had always worn his heart on his sleeve.  What else could be wrong? _

_"Da?__ Matt? Are they alright?"_

_He didn't answer._

_"Not both o them" I begged.  Not me Da and me older brother in the same stroke.  "Where's Ma?  She's got te be beside herself" I shook me head weakly in denial "She'd had the pox."_

_"It wasn't the pox" Tom's voice was ragged "When Matt died Lord Ossory turned her out."_

_"But she and Da served him and his father for over forty years."_

_"It didn't matter te him" Tom muttered bitterly "She walked here."_

_"But that's miles" I whispered.  He'd turned an old woman out te walk in the bitter February cold.  Bloody bastard!  Hell, he was probably coming te court himself.  He spent more time here anyway than in his own house.  Old Lord Ossory never would o done it.  More than one old family servant had lived comfortably on his sufferance.  But all young Ossory could think o was advancing himself and gambling away the family fortune with Princess Anne and the rest o the __Cockpit Circle__.  I was suddenly even more tired.  Tom shook me back awake._

_"Damn it all Bill, drink this and don't ye dare die on me too, ye hear.  Ye've a wife and a bonny wee lad te live for."_

__

_                It had taken a bit o doing te find something reflective in Tom's quarters and I was utterly spent as I collapsed back onte the pallet.  I knew me right arm and part o me chest were a mass o scars but I hadn't been able te find any on me face by touch.  It didn't seem right somehow te ask Tom and all me talks with Kitty had been through the closed door so as te take no chances with little Will.  I lay limply on the pallet a moment both te rest and in dread o what I might find before bringing the little piece o metal up and trying te make out me face in it._

_"Your face is fine, Bill" Tom said quietly from the doorway.  I dropped me makeshift mirror as if I'd been burned._

_"I'm sorry."_

_"For what?__  Ye didn't give me the pox, Bill.  And ye've every right te hope ye didn't end up like this."  He gestured te his own ruined visage. "It's alright" he lied.  It wasn't alright but there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it so we just pretended it really was fine.  _

_He forced a smile "There's someone here who's been waiting te meet ye" he said as he stepped inside te make way for Kitty.  God, but she's so beautiful, what does she even see in me?_

_"It isn't safe" I protested weakly.  The mere sight o me Kitty again was almost enough te make me forget there was a reason for the separation._

_"Ye've had no fever for days, Bill" Tom replied._

_The bundle in her arms squirmed and protested.  Me son.  I took him from Kitty.  He reached up and I let him wrap his perfect little fingers around one o me own.  It didn't seem quiet real yet, I'd lost me own Da and gained a son in the same week that I couldn't remember.   What do ye say at a time like this?  I glanced up as Mr. Hill joined us his face lined with grief.  I glanced up at Kitty with the question in me eyes. Her own were red rimmed._

_"We just heard this morning.  George and Bessie are" she just broke down and wept.  I looked at me father-in-law in confusion but he looked like he wanted te join her.  I was torn.  I wanted te comfort me wife and I wanted to hold me son and in me weakened state I wasn't sure how te manage it.  Tom solved me dilemma by scooping up little Will.  _

_Oh God, only a year ago when we'd wed there had been nine, now only four remained o our little family.  Will chose that moment te complain for his Ma.  How could I forget that we'd become five! 'The pox had robbed us but God had given back' I thought as I watched Kitty settle our son at her breast.  _

My father paused "Ye were all our hope in a damnably bleak year.  And now ye're te become a father yerself.  What I wouldn't give lad for yer Ma te see that day.  For us te have been a proper family and for ye te have known yer Uncle Tom and yer Grandfather Hill but those damn Churchills and me own damn pride."  He ran a hand over his face.  I'd never even known I had uncles.  Ma had only talked about my father and then just to say that he was a good and decent man who obeyed the law, over and over.  That should have made me suspicious but it hadn't at least not until I met Captain Jack Sparrow.  It hadn't been easy to sail under the command of a pirate not even for Elizabeth's sake.  I could still recall that first flash of rage when Jack had called my father a pirate and a scalawag.  I'd been ready to kill him without a thought for what it would mean for Elizabeth but in the end he'd taught me that it was possible to be a pirate and a good man.

"But why did you leave?"

"It was on account o what Sir Edwin Churchill did and what I did."

_                The chestnut I was riding flicked her ears back and then nickered.  _

_I gave her a pat "What do ye hear lass?"_

_I reined her in as another horseman appeared out o the mist._

_"Sir Edwin" I sketched a bow in the saddle._

_He gave me an ominous smile and bellowed "Here he is! After him!"_

_I wheeled the mare and set me heels te whatever was coming up behind.  Branches tore at me as I veered off the road and into the forest.  I was nearly unseated as me left knee clipped a tree trunk.  Damn but that hurt!  I tucked down as tight as I could te horse's neck and wondered what the bloody hell I was running from.  I slowed her as we broke out inte a field.  I listened intently for any sign o pursuit.  _

_Sir Edwin was probably laughing himself right off that nasty tempered black stallion o his.  It would be like him te pretend that.  I froze as the sound o men yelling reached me ears.  Shite!  I glanced around taking quick stock o where I was.  I was suddenly very, very glad o all time I'd spent helping Tom recover reluctant hawks and carrying the cadge.  I knew exactly where I was.  I kicked her into a canter, paralleling the edge o the woods and seeking the narrow trail that would take me back behind the mews.  I cut her quickly back inte the forest none te soon as the constabulary broken inte the field behind me.  I gave her her head and we galloped at a breakneck speed for __Whitehall__._

_Me heart froze as I spotted the downed tree across the trail far too late to stop.  The chestnut jumped it beautifully.  I on the other hand, unsurprisingly, did not.  Me last thought as I hit the ground was me Da would have hid his head in shame an he were still alive._

_"Sh" a hand wrapped itself around me mouth as I jerked awake and stifled a moan.  I hurt - everywhere.   Why couldn't I seem te focus? Everything was doubled as two Tom's leaned over me with both o their scarred faces furrowed in concern.  I could hear the jangle o tack and men's curses._

_"Are ye sure he came this way" Sir Edwin snapped somewhere to our left._

_"Quite so, milord."___

_"Then how could you have lost him?" he sounded thoroughly disgusted._

_"He **is** the master falconer's brother, sir.  He knows these woods well."_

_"I haven't all day to waste on this matter.  Stay after him and keep me informed."_

_"Aye, sir."___

_We stayed as quiet and still as the prey we were refusing te flush even when one o the beaters sticks whacked Tom in the shoulder.  After an eternity they moved on.  _

_"Damn it all Bill!  I told ye not te get caught" Tom hissed._

_"I didn't" I protested "I'd already run the Earl's errand was on me way back, free and clear."_

_"Then why is half o __Whitehall__ looking for ye?"_

_"I don't know" the world was spinning and I hadn't even tried te move yet._

_"Ye don't" he started "It doesn't matter.  We've got te get ye out o here."_

_"But I didn't do anything" me eyes wanted te slide back shut and spots were dancing through me vision._

_"Don't think that matters much Bill" He tried te pull me te me feet but me left leg just folded back up.  _

_"Bill" he shook me a little.  I didn't even recall landing back in the muck._

_The two Tom's frowned as he studied me eyes "Ye've a right nasty gash and lump on yer head Bill."_

_"Don't ye fuss over me hard head.  It's me legs that I need."_

_He tried te slide off me boot and I bit me tongue trying not the cry out.  He cursed when the boot wouldn't come off.  His fingers were gentle but I was still fighting back a scream the entire time.  _

_"I don't think anything's broken but ye picked a bloody rotten time te sprain yer ankle and wrench yer knee, Bill." _

_I didn't even bother te respond.  Talking was too much effort.  Thinking was too much effort.  Hurts._

_He hauled me back te me feet while supporting me left side.  Even with his help it was hard going.  I couldn't seem te find me balance.  I stumbled like a bloody drunk.  Tom set me down with the bloody sun right in me eyes._

_"Don't squint" he ordered._

_'Then don't plop me down in the bloody sun' I wanted te snapped back but it was just too much effort.  He blocked the light and then stepped out o it and back._

_I tried te muster up a glare but it wasn't worth the effort either._

_Tom started cursing under his breath as me vision started te go gray around the edges again._

_"Bill one o yer eyes isn't reacting te light."_

_'And this is important?' I thought._

_"Ye need te stay awake, ye hear.  Answer me Bill."_

_"Less chatter.__  More tracks" I muttered._

_He pulled me back te me feet and we stumbled a bit further afore we both froze at the baying o hounds._

_"Go Tom" I ordered with as much strength as I could muster._

_He started te shake his head in denial afore sighing in defeat "No sense in us both being caught.  We'll find a way out o this" he swore afore disappearing inte the greenery._

_I slumped against a tree.  If they were going te catch me anyway there was no use in running any further._

_"Over here!" I called._

_"Am I glad te see ye" I exclaimed as I shoved an enthusiastic hound's muzzle out o me face.  For being savage hunting dogs I was in far more danger o being licked te death than having me throat torn out.  The guards glanced at each other in confusion._

_"Took a nasty spill from me horse.  Wasn't sure I could make it back on me own."_

_"Are ye William Blake?" the commander rebutted._

_"Aye but I didn't think I was important enough for all o ye."_

_"Ye'll be coming with us."_

_"Would ye be so kind as te drop me at the Cockpit?  I need te report te me master, John Churchill the Earl o __Marlborough__."_

_The lieutenant didn't even flicker an eye at me master's name and I felt me heart start te flutter faster._

_"We'll be taking ye te Newgate Prison."_

_"Newgate Prison – why?" it required no effort at all te appear utterly confused._

_"Ye know why, wretch" the lieutenant snapped back._

_"Is it again the law te fall from a horse?"_

_"Get up" he ordered._

_I tried.  I really did but me left leg wouldn't take me weight and the world just faded.  I only dimly felt the rap he gave me with his riding crop._

_"That will be enough" a smooth upper-crust voice ordered._

_Sir Rhys Norrington me befuddled brain supplied._

_"Can't you see the man is injured?"_

_"Just malingering, Sir."___

_"No, he is not."_

_It sounded like he was standing right over me.  Ah, yes, both of him were._

_"Come away, Sir" the lieutenant sounded worried "that is a desperate fugitive."_

_"I'm in no danger.  Please have your troopers assist Mr. Blake into the saddle."_

_They pulled me up and heaved me unceremoniously inte the saddle.  I wrapped me fingers inte the bay's dark mane and clung in abject misery as one o the troopers collected its reins.  Sir Rhys Norrington looked down as I rode past him on me way te Newgate Prison._

__

_                "Has he pled yet?" I knew that voice – why couldn't I place it? 'Has he been informed o the charge?' I rebutted in me head but lay still on the cold stone floor._

_"No yer, lairdship."_

_"Has he been pressed?"_

_"Your pardon, Earl, but he keeps fainting."_

_'The Earl o __Marlborough__?'__ I pried one o me reluctant eyes open and met both ice cold gazes o John Churchill._

_"He's awake now" he snapped "Fetch the weights and prepare him for peine forte et dure."_

_I was too stunned te speak as I was stripped and stretched._

_"Is this wise?" Sir Rhys protested "You could kill him.  He's injured."_

_"His neck will stretch soon enough" Sir Edwin swore "God but you're such a bloody lass.  I hope the Navy toughens up that little brother of yours else your parents are going to end up with two **daughters** instead of two **sons**."_

_"Your pardon, Edwin" Rhys rebutted coolly "If I happen to be a wiser man."_

_I'd vouch for that.  Sir Rhys reminded me a bit o old Lord Ossory.  Both o them stiff as boards but with a streak o decency and honor left in em.  Sir Rhys would never have turned me Ma out when Matt died.  O course that decency assured that he'd never be more than plain Sir Rhys.  The __Cockpit Circle__ let him stand on the edges on account o his money but they'd let me further inte their intrigues than they'd ever let him.  Why couldn't I have caught Sir Rhys' eye instead o Lady Sarah's?_

_"Wiser how?"__ Edwin grumbled._

_'He hasn't gambled away every penny he has' I thought and then gave a silent scream as they wrapped the last rope around me left ankle stretching both it and the knee._

_"A wise man regardeth the life of his beast and his bondservant" Sir Rhys replied "This man has done your family good service, Earl, and he deserves better than to be condemned without even a hearing and the support of his lord."_

_John Churchill gave me a look "He is of no further use to me.  I release him from my service.  Press him until he pleads or he dies."  And with that he turned on his heel and left me on the cold stones o me cell in Newgate Prison…_

"That son of a bitch"  my father had started to pace with agitation.  If you watched carefully you could tell that he limped ever so slightly because his left knee didn't bend quite right.

"Ye have te understand.  I was the courier between the Cockpit and the Hague."

I just looked at him blankly.  Elizabeth was wild about history but I was a blacksmith.  Mallory may have taught me fencing, fighting, ciphering, reading, and the forge but that hadn't left any time for what the Governor would call 'a classical education'.  The closest I came was the handwritten copies of the Iliad and the Odyssey that Mallory had left mingled in with all of the more practical treatises on forging and fighting.  It was when I read the tale of Ulysses and the Cyclops and I realized that I'd been given a false name I had truly hardened my heart against him.

"Kitty never told ye about 'the Glorious Revolution'?" he asked incredulously. 

"No."

"In 1687 Princess Anne entered inte a highly treasonous correspondence with her sister Mary and her brother-in-law William te overthrow her father James II."

"You know Queen Anne?" I interrupted and instantly felt like a fool but it was a shock to suddenly realize that my parents had served not just nobility but royalty.

"Aye, I knew that pompous, back-stabbing, near-sighted, stubborn, faithless, hypocritical, gossiping shrew.  For two years I was entrusted with some o the most compromising letters ever te disgrace a sheet o paper.  Many o them by her own hand and I doubt she ever even knew me name or noticed me in the Cockpit while she gambled away other men's lives.  I was there when she and the Churchills plotted against her own father.  I was there when Sarah Churchill cooked up the warming-pan lie and made sure that Anne wouldn't be present for the birth."

"Then the Pretender is the real King of England?"  I asked aghast, surely they wouldn't have knowingly stolen their father and brother's crown!

"If yer asking if he's the son o James II and Queen Mary – then aye he's their son.  Now whether he's King or no depends on if yer of a Whig or a Tory frame o mind.  All I can say is that I stood silent while they slung all the mud they could think o at Queen Mary whose only crimes were she was Catholic and she'd been brought te bed o a living son.  Don't think it ever occurred te them I could have brought the whole house o cards down by walking up te one o the King's men with one o those packets."  He rubbed the scars on the backs of his hands.

"Always wondered if what came after was God's judgment for betraying me anointed King."

"Why did you do it?"  I'd waited my whole life for my father and I wanted to understand not condemn.

"God afore King and country.  James was Catholic and there were those what said he was going te make us all papists again.  Didn't want that being a good Protestant.  Didn't want bloody **Queen** Anne either.  Not a good choice te be found, not one.  No loyalties, son, in the court it's all intrigues and back-stabbing but me Ma and Da had taught me no matter what ye keep yer oaths and I'd given mine te Lord Churchill and I stuck te it.  Even went with him when we slipped away in the night te join William Prince o Orange.  Did ye know the Duke o Marlborough has the distinction o being the only English lieutenant-general te betray his King in the field?  Sold his sister te James te gain a position used James te advance himself and then dropped him like a hot potato te join William."  He spat on the deck.  "Knew he'd leave me in the lurch if I was ever caught but I never expected the real depths the Churchills could sink te…"

_                "Bill, you must plead" someone said.  So hot, so hard te breath.  Why was it so hard to breath?_

_"Bill" someone bathed me forehead with cool water.  I opened me eyes te and tried te thank them._

_"Mr. Hill" I whispered and remembered the weights that had been piled on me chest._

_"You must plead before it's too late" he said._

_"For what?"___

_"They haven't told you the charge?"_

_I shook me head slightly thinking it would be easier than talking with the whole world crushing down on me chest.  It was a mistake._

_"You're accused of stealing one of Lady Bathurst's jewels."_

_"Didn't" I breathed._

_"I know you didn't.  You just leave your defense to Tom and I and plead not guilty before" he glanced at the weights and back at me.  He didn't need te finish the thought - another weight would be the end o me.  _

_"Alright" I mouthed on an exhale._

_He left me side te bang on the door.  "He's ready to plead.  Remove the weights and fetch me his clothes and some water."_

_I don't think anything in me whole life felt better than those weights being pulled off me chest.  Me father-in-law wrapped a steadying arm around me shoulders and helped me sit up.  Me head still felt as if it had been caught between a hammer and an anvil but at least I wasn't seeing two of bloody everything any more.  The guards trooped back out with their benighted board and weights and I just curled up around me aching chest not caring a bit that I was still stark naked on the stone floor._

_"Let's get you dressed" Mr. Hill said cautiously.  I shivered as a chill settled inte me bones._

_"You've enough troubles without taking sick as well."_

_"What does it matter?  I'm already a dead man."_

_"I never would have though my Kitty had married a quitter" he returned angrily._

_"Doesn't matter that I'm innocent – not against them.__  We both know who really did the thieving and he'll never be convicted o it."_

_He grasped me chin "You leave that to Tom and I.  You just stay alive."  He pressed me clothes inte me hands and I dressed slowly pausing te stare down at the tapestry o bruises.  Some just starting te turn green from the fall and others purple and black from the tender mercies o Newgate._

__

_                I opened one eye when I heard the first few clicks o their little feet.  I tensed as they rustled the straw.  I lashed out throwing one o the furry little bodies against the wall and sending the rest o them squeaking back out o the cell.  Three weeks in Newgate had seen me head and ankle well though the knee was still tender.  I'd also learned more than I ever needed te know about rats.  _

_"Nicely done."___

_I charged the door and Sir Edwin laughed at me "Gently, we wouldn't want te damage the merchandise."_

_"What are you talking about?" I demanded since I couldn't throttle him._

_"Haven't you heard?  To recoup her loss Lady Bathurst has appropriated all of your worldly goods and is selling you as an indentured servant."_

_"But I've never been brought te trial."_

_"No need since you graciously decided to write a confession."_

_"But I can't read" I protested._

_"And it shows, appalling spelling."_

_He smirked "Besides you no longer have legal council so there is little point in a trial."_

_A cold dread seized me._

_"An old man and a spirited horse make a poor combination.  Tragic, really, but then you should know just how devastating a bad fall can be."_

_"Merciful God what have you done?"_

_"Don't get agitated yet.  I've only just begun."  He tossed something through the bars that rolled inte the shadows._

_"Aren't you going to look at my gift?" he asked with false gaiety. _

_I didn't need te.  I knew what it was but I'd be damned the lowest level o hell before I gave him the satisfaction o seeing me reaction.  It was a falcon's hood.  No, that was wrong it was a tercel's hood.  Tercel – one third smaller.  Only one falconer in all o __England__ flew tercels and so he had te custom make every hood himself.  Sir Edwin had bruises on his temples and long, deep scratches on the side o his neck.  Falconers will tell you that the relationship between man and bird is one of trust and respect.  The man respects the bird and if he is a good falconer the bird grows to trust him.  But it is not a relationship of affection at least not on the part of the falcon.  It is not in their nature.  But Tom was no ordinary falconer and he'd had that bird for over four years.  It had been something special and different.  And when the test came the tercel had done what no falconer in __England__ would have expected – he had turned and fought for his master.  There was blood on that hood.  Me baby brother and his beloved bird were dead and his murderer was gloating just out o me reach.  I refused te let him see me grief and settled for glaring dully through the cell door._

_"That's a lovely lass you'll be leaving behind" he licked his lips "Mayhap I'll comfort her when you're far away across the sea."  He smiled "Or maybe I won't wait that long.  Is she a sigher or a screamer?  Of course I'll have to do something with that little whelp that's yapping at her heels."  He paused.  "Nothing to say?  You disappoint me.  You have another week until you sail – I'm sure we'll find your tongue before then."_

_As his footsteps faded down the corridor I beat me hands numb and bloody against the uncaring wood o the door.  As I sank down in defeat me foot sent the hood rolling…_

                He pulled a battered bit of leather out.  I could only assume having never seen one that it was a hood.  He closed his eyes and turned his head.  I'd seen his tears but I pretended not to.

"He murdered your grandfather and uncle for trying te help me and then he threatened ye and yer mother.  I know the Good Book teaches that vengeance belongs te God" he paused to wipe his eyes.  I half expected Jack to mutter a reference but I guess he was still below with Mallory, Elizabeth, and the rest of the Pearl's crew.  "But I wanted te kill him with me own hands.  I wanted te be there te see the light fade from his eyes."  He tried te smile and failed "Ma always told me te be careful what I wished for.  God help me but I can't forgive the Churchills even now and if I burn in hell for it then so be it."

"But how did you escape?"

"I think that's a question I need te put te Mr. Mallory but this is the way o it…

_                I started in a moment's panic as the lock turned and the door opened.  I picked up the chamber bucket, ready te brain whoever was coming through the door and make a run for it._

_"Is that any way to greet your rescuer?" the odd little man in the doorway quipped._

_"Who are you?" I asked 'what are you?' I thought._

_"No time for introductions.  Quickly."  He stood no higher than my waist but he wasn't a dwarf.  Or at least he looked nothing like the dwarf sketching master in __Whitehall__.  I nearly had te run te keep up as we passed the blissfully sleeping guards._

_"Why are ye doing this?"_

_The strange little man didn't answer.  He just handed me a stack o coin, sketched a quick bow, and vanished leaving me scratching me head in the __London__ streets._

_                I flattened meself against yet another doorway.  At this rate I wouldn't make it back te Kitty and __Whitehall__ afore dawn.  I cursed mentally as I recognized the man.  Sir Rhys Norrington, what in the name o God was he doing sneaking (rather poorly I might add) through the __London__ streets in the dead o night?  He tripped over his own feet narrowly missing falling inte some o the less pleasant things that accumulated in the gutters.  Our eyes met and I found meself starring down a pistol barrel._

_"How did you escape?"_

_I shrugged and told the truth "A wee little man put the sentries te sleep and unlocked me door."_

_He didn't believe me which was fair enough I wasn't sure I believed me.  But I was hoping this wasn't a dream and was praying harder than I'd ever prayed afore that I didn't awaken back in me cell._

_"No matter, you've got to get out of __London__."_

_"Not without me wife and son."___

_"My word, Mr. Blake I'll see them safe."_

_"Ye stay away from them.  Yer word ain't worth the air its carried on."_

_He actually managed te go even stiffer, who'd thunk it possible? "Don't judge us all by the Churchills and the Stuarts. Will you trust me at least to bring them to you?"_

_"No" I snarled._

_He was deeply insulted but he didn't call for the guard. _

_"Then let's get back to __Whitehall__."_

__

_                I broke inte a flat out run, lame knee or no lame knee when I heard the first shriek.  I burst in through door scattering the young courtiers like chaff in their complete surprise.  Then they realized I was unarmed and alone._

_"Well, well, well, I am impressed" Sir Edwin restrained me Kitty while little Will wailed.  He shoved her in his direction "Quiet the brat or I will."_

_"Yer a big man against a woman and child" I reached out and slapped his face. _

_ He rubbed his cheek and laughed "You're challenging me to a duel.  Why should I bother?  All I need do is call the guard."_

_"Because your honor can not bear the shame?"__ Sir Rhys offered from the doorway._

_"What are you doing here?"  _

_"Unlike some I don't consider the sound of a woman in terror exciting.  I came to offer the lady my assistance." More than one o the young 'gallants' with Sir Edwin had the decency te look shamed._

_"Lovely, now you can be the thieving stableboy's second."_

_"I am not the thief" I spat back.  _

_"Pity you can not prove it.  Let's go."_

_                The morning sun was beginning te turn the mist a pale pink when we squared off. Sir Edwin borrowed a pistol from one o his cronies.  He discharged both it and his own and ordered his second te reload them._

_"Have you ever fired a pistol before?" Sir Rhys asked looking worriedly at the 'gentleman' with the pistols._

_I shook me head as the young courtiers snickered and guffawed.  He pulled out his own, cocked it, sighted, and mimed firing._

_"Seems simple enough" I allowed nervously.  I hated Sir Edwin with a passion that was near te blinding but he was known both as a good shot and a good soldier.  I'd never held a gun, never killed a man.  _

_When Sir Edwin's second passed us the pistol, Sir Rhys switched it for his own. "Trust me" he mouthed silently._

_I didn't, I couldn't but I accepted his pistol anyway.  The courtiers couldn't keep the grins off their faces, damned vultures.  I adjusted me grip on the butt as I braced meself te die.  I didn't have a prayer.  He was going te kill me just like he'd murdered me brother and father-in-law.  The only hope Will and Kitty had was if Sir Rhys was true te his word.  I raised the gun ignoring the jeers o the courtiers.  Sir Edwin's gun spoke first and the blaze o a ball across me left arm was like fire.  I was alive!  Why were his friends still laughing?  I sighted down the barrel and squeezed.  His eyes widened a bit in shock and he just crumpled with blood pouring down his chest._

_"How in bloody hell did he get a loaded pistol?" Sir Edwin's second demanded.  Sir Rhys cocked the pistol in his hand_

_"This is your pistol, Charles, and I can assure you I've rectified your oversight.  Now if you're of a mind to join Edwin in pestering St. Peter you just go ahead.  Did you really think I'd stand aside and let you get away with this?"_

_"You don't have the backbone to shoot a man, Rhys."_

_"Are you very, very sure of that Charles?"_

_"Four te two, Rhys, and you've only got one shot."_

_"Then I'd best put it where it'll do the most good, hadn't I?"_

_"You bloody traitor!" Charles spat "How can you stand against your own and defend a stableboy?"_

_"This isn't about him" every warm feeling I'd had toward Sir Rhys died at that cold imperial tone "this is about honor and justice."_

_"You are a fool."_

_Sir Rhys shrugged "Mayhap, but the stableboy and I are walking out of here.  And you are going to let us."_

_We walked backwards, never taking our eyes off Sir Edwin's cronies until we were back in the cover o the trees.  _

_"That has to be the most imprudent thing I have ever done." He produced a silk handkerchief and started te bind me wound but I jerked away. _

_"As you like" he sniffed and walked away._

_"You rash fool" Kitty hissed and slapped me. "How could you?  HOW COULD YOU?" she shrieked._

_I blinked at her in wounded confusion._

_"You don't even realize what you've done do you?"_

_"Aye, I do.  I've killed the thieving monster that murdered me brother and yer father.  And I've protected ye and Will from him.  Would ye rather I let him live?  That I let me kin go unavenged? That I stand aside and let him rape ye?"_

_She ignored the tears running freely down her face "Aye, William Blake I do because until now there was still a chance we could be together.  That bastard's death won't bring back my father or your brother but it'll be the death of you."_

_"Ye'd have let him use ye?"_

_"I love you Bill and I'd sell my soul for you if that's what it took.  Aye, I'd have let him have me if it meant we could be together again.  But you've killed the Earl of __Marlborough__'s__ baby bother.  There isn't a hole on earth deep enough for us to be safe in and I've Will to think of.  You run Bill, you run fast and far."_

_"Come with me" I took her hand but she shook her head._

_"Will and I would only get you killed all the sooner.  I'll have to run now too, but in a different direction."_

_"I'll find a way for us te be tegether again.  I swear." I gathered her inte me arms and pressed the wee man's coins inte her hand._

_"Don't make promises, beloved, that you can not keep" she pulled away "I love you William Turner."_

_"Turner?"___

_"We can't use Blake anymore.  Your mother told me it was her mother's name."  There was a shout off te our left._

_"Go."  She whirled and ran with little Will in her arms._

                "I never saw her again.  I broke me word, te her and te ye, son.  I never found me way home."

We sat in silence for several moments and I remembered Mallory trying to tell me that there was a difference between law and justice.  What would I have done if my father had been at Gallows Point just five years ago?  Would I have cheered confident that the law only condemned the guilty?

"I know ye love her lad but ye shouldn't rely on her.  And be careful o that father o hers."

I froze.  My God, it hadn't even occurred to me.  My father hated gentry and I was married to the Governor's daughter.  What was I going to do?  I wouldn't give up Elizabeth but I wanted my father.  I glanced at his scarred hands "Can you trust Mallory?"

"Not the same, not the same at all."

I wanted off this topic before matters got any worse.  Maybe Mallory would be willing to help later.

"What happened next?"

_                The knee throbbed in a constant ache that sent flashes of white hot pain the length o me with each stride but I couldn't stop.  If I stopped, if I slowed, I was a dead man.  The baying o the hounds had faded since the stream but that would only last a little while.  Mark was a damn fine huntsman.   He'd have the dogs back on me in short order, friend or not.  I skidded to a stop.  Where had that horse come from?  No matter, it was a God send._

_"Hello, fellow" I said soothingly.  He rolled his eyes and knelt.  I hesitated as the hair on me arms stood at attention._

_The dark horse snorted and stamped impatiently.  The hounds!  That settled the matter odd or not the horse was me only hope.  Almost before I had even settled onte his bare back he was off like a shot.  I wrapped me fingers in his mane and clung.  I'd never been any good at riding bareback and I didn't have so much as a rope te control him with._

_                I woke with a start.  How had I gotten here?  The last thing I remembered was riding at a frightening pace on a strange dark horse._

_"Good morning" the wee man from Newgate turned from his place by the fire te regard me. "Hungry?"_

_My stomach gurgled at the absolutely delicious smell wafting in me direction.  Newgate wasn't known for its fine cuisine.  I had te restrain meself from snatching the bowl from his hands and forced meself te eat slowly so as not te make meself sick.  I wiped me mouth with the back o me hand._

_"Thank ye.  Who are ye?"_

_"What's in a name?" the wee man asked "a rose by any other name smells as sweet."_

_"Please."_

_The wee man hesitated "Puck Robin, at yer service, mortal."_

_"I don't believe in fairies" I whispered._

_"Do ye think we care?"_

_I stumbled up out o the bed and suddenly realized the room had neither doors nor windows._

_"Let me go."_

_"When I'm ready, we're Under the Hill because I don't want the Wind tattling" the hobgoblin replied._

_"Ye were the horse?"_

_"Aye."___

_"Why?"_

_The hobgoblin looked me up and down.  "I saved ye from Newgate because the Wind brought me a request from my Prince te do so.  Me Prince promised the White Rose his friendship, I promised the Prince me allegiance, and the heir o the White Rose promised te get ye out o Newgate so we're all creatures o our word.  The question is, mortal, will ye be?"_

_"Be what?"_

_"A man o yer word."___

_"I haven't given me word."_

_"Ye will or ye'll never leave this place."_

_"Do ye expect me te hold te a promise given under duress?"_

_His eyes glowed suddenly "It's a perilous thing te break yer word te Robin Goodfellow.  But perhaps it is meet that ye should know both the what and the why of me request.  Ye caught me Prince's eye on account o the heir o the White Rose but he'll not forget ye.  And one way or the other the day will come when ye'll serve me Prince."_

_"I'll never serve another noble for as long as I live" I spat._

_"Bold words from a mortal without Foresight.__  I have Foresight and I say you'll serve me Prince.  The future is always in motion, mortal, and around me Prince it writhes like a nest o vipers.  There's nothing anyone with Foresight can say with certainty about the ultimate fate o me Prince."  He poked at the fire and a scene appeared.  I recognized meself, much older, but no one else, my God!_

_"Is that Will?"_

_"It is your son and he is dieing, mortal."_

_"How do I stop this?" I reached out te shake him and found meself on me arse on the floor with no notion o how I'd gotten there._

_"It's a possible future.  It may never happen and I emphatically hope it never does."_

_"Why do you care about me son?"_

_"I don't" the hobgoblin retorted "which future awaits me Prince I don't know but I see the paths and branches that lead to various outcomes.  If this is the fate o yer son then me Prince is in dire trouble."  He turned glowing eyes on me "Two promises, mortal, first that ye'll find a way te summon me Prince te save yer son."_

_"He can do that?"_

_"If ye can get him te yer son's side he will live te see his unborn children."_

_"Done gladly and the second."_

_"Less easy, mortal, that no matter what happens or what it costs ye, me Prince does **NOT** leave the Black __Pearl__ alone after he saves yer son."_

_"Why?"_

_The hobgoblin stirred the coals afore answering "Because if he does he will die.  Best if ye can keep him aboard the __Pearl__ but if naught else don't leave him."  Those glowing eyes were boring holes in me "Me Prince is stubborn and proud but he's also generous and compassionate.  Along with his hope they have been his greatest strengths but they also mean that while he gives help freely he never, ever asks it for himself.  So I'm making the demand he won't.  Don't ye let me Prince die mortal, or it won't just be the death o an Elven Prince ye'll have on yer head.  Ye'll be able te swim in the blood."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because the current King o Avalon is a fool, and a dangerous one.  The Elves rule Avalon by Gwaed da Draig, by right o the Dragon's Blood but there's no few of the cyfae who would see House Penthalion destroyed.  I'll not deny being ruled by a pack o mortal upstarts has caught in me craw more than once but the loss o House Penthalion and with it the last o the Gwaed da Draig would be even worse."  I flinched at the shower o sparks that the fire suddenly put forth.  "Death stalks that boy.  Puck Robin was here when the Great Ice came and Puck Robin returned when the Ice retreated and never in all that time have I seen anyone, mortal or cyfae, with more possible deaths.  Some cause hardly a ripple in the pool o time and some, some herald the beginnings o a cyfae war the like o which has not been seen since the Draigs fell.  Trust me, mortal the last thing ye want is a no holds barred cyfae war."_

_"Then why don't ye go te him?"_

_"There's no love lost between Puck Robin and the Sea.  And Puck Robin has made his choice.  If me Prince lives te claim his throne he'll have four less enemies and one less ally.  In the end, mortal, all things even the ageless cyfae die.  Ye tell him if the time comes that he has enough te fight without becoming his own worst enemy.  And more important ye remind him he's not without friends and not without gobaith.  Now, sleep, mortal and forget ye were ever in the Cynfyd unless the worst befalls…"_

                "I rode that horse another three weeks with no memory and no notion that he was a pooka.  Didn't remember any o it until the first bullet hit ye" he closed his eyes as if trying to stave off the memory.

"I want te stay lad and bounce that bonny lass ye've got on the way on me knee but if Mallory Adfyw takes it inte his head te leave I'll be going with him.  Please don't think I don't want" he stopped and whispered "I owe him te bloody much not te go.  And I won't make another promise I don't know if I can keep but I'll do everything I can te come back te ye, that is if ye want me te."

"Of course I do" I sat up further without thinking and my father, my **father**, I wondered if I had as sappy a grin as his, pushed me ever so gently back. "You're always welcome, no matter how long it takes."

"Thank ye, ye don't know, son, what that means."

"I owe him me life ye know" he said suddenly as if he still needed to convince me that it was right for him to go.  I didn't like the idea.  I didn't like it at all but if the hobgoblin was right I didn't want Mallory's death on my head or my father's simply because I couldn't let go.  Damn it!  It's not fair.  I just got him back.

"Do you?" I asked when my silence had stretched long enough for him to become nervous.

"He took me right off the gallows" he grinned at me "I hear tell ye did the same for Jack.  That had te have taken a fair site o courage, son."  His eyes glowed with pride and I felt a flush creeping up my neck.  There was a time I would never have been proud of breaking the law.

"Yes, I did.  He's a good man" I glanced in the direction of the galley "It wasn't right for him to die for the sake of a good deed."

"Wish I could say the same o meself when I met Mr. Mallory" he studied those scars again "The law condemned me when I was innocent o being a thief and o being a murderer when all I was doing was defending me family but I let meself become both.  I've done a lot o things I ain't proud o and that I never would o thought meself capable o." He wouldn't look at me "I was no prize when he took me off the scaffold…"

_                The crowd had stopped pitching rotten vegetables and moved on te throwing manure off the streets.  I snarled and screamed oaths and curses back at them while wishing for a brace o pistols.  I'd kill the bleeding lot o them.  I glared me impotent hate at them as I tested the shackles on me wrists again.  I hated them.  I hated meself.  I hated me life.  There's no bloody way te be comfortable with yer wrists shackled behind yer back and that's assuming ye can ignore the crowd screaming its hate for ye.  A glob o something particularly nasty caught me on the cheek and left a long smear o slime down me front.  I cursed the fool o a Captain I'd sailed inte the harbor under fer trying te bribe Governor Fletcher with cash instead o the silver plate I'd shown him for that purpose.  The highly insulted charlatan had decided te make an example o us._

_                Speaking o the charlatan our wagon stopped te let his couch and six trot past down Wall Street complete with its decaying wall.  Fat lot o good that would do against an Indian attack much less an encounter with a French ship o the line.  We'd laughed ourselves silly we had when one o the few educated mates had stumblingly read the proclamation ordering every male citizen te have his guns well cared for and ready in case o attack.  I cursed the fool we'd sailed inte port under again.  'We'll have a grand time in __New York__' says he 'the garrison is all up in __Albany__ fighting the French and Indians'.  Like hell.  Mac and Luke yelled a few suggestive comments te some Dutch lasses in scandalously short skirts and red stockings.  On our way te the bleeding gallows and they're still hoping te get lucky.  Course that was what pirating was all about for most o these lads.  'A short and merry life.  Take what ye can and give nothing back and all that.'  I just wanted te go home.  Except thanks te that benighted lordling I didn't have a home any more.  I wondered how Kitty and Will were.  But I was glad they'd never know what had become o me.  Me eyes met a pair o brilliant green ones.  Odd how ye couldn't seem te look away.  Not a single thing else te mark the man out.  His cloths were plain but serviceable, his features nondescript, his age anywhere between thirty and forty-five, and of middling height.  Was that recognition in those eyes?  I didn't know the man.  I'd have remembered those eyes.  The wagon lurched ahead and I lost sight o him in the press o the bloody thirsty mob._

_                'So this is it' I thought as we came te the gallows.  The pastor called on us te repent. Repent for what?  The world had taken from me and I'd taken back. Me eyes caught a bit o movement on one o those funny Dutch gabled roofs.  Was that a bowman?  The pastor led us in a chorus.  The sheriff, sadistic sod, kicked Mac's block first but the ropes had been cut short.  He might have dropped all of an inch and the crowd went wild as he kicked.  They cheered lustily at the spreading stain as his bladder let go.  As Mac's struggles ceased it was Luke's turn.  Vultures.  Just a pack o vultures and there was a time I'd have been out there cavorting with them.  Many's the time Ma had packed a lunch and we'd watched the gallows dance.  Now it was me turn te be the dancer.  I glared at the man slipping the noose over me head with me heart brimming with hate.  I snapped at him and bit down hard tasting the coppery tang o blood on me tongue.  He cursed and shoved me back off the platform.  I braced meself expecting the rope te tighten but instead I landed flat on me back on the oyster shell covered square. An arrow was still quivering in the wood o the scaffold.  He'd severed the bloody rope with an arrow!  Several more arrows thunked inte various targets in rapid succession while dozens o bone chilling screams split the air.  The townspeople scattered in panic, falling over themselves in their fear, and shrieking that the Indians had come.  In the midst of the pandemonium me shackles were slipped off and I was helped te me feet by the green eyed man._

_"Were you perhaps waiting for a written invitation?" he asked calmly as he steered me out o the crowd.  We made a few quick turns and stopped at a horse trough.  He quickly filled a bucket with water and threw it over me._

_I sputtered and grasped for me cutlass before remembering I was unarmed._

_"What was that for?" I growled as I glowered at me rescuer._

_"The smell" he replied wrinkling his nose.  "But I fear it's a lost cause in those cloths.  Let's find you some others and then a bath."_

_"I bathe twice a year" I rebutted indignant. _

_He waved the elegant walking stick that didn't really match his Puritan plain dress "and it shows."_

_"I can't take a bath.  I'm trying te escape."_

_"On the contrary, you shan't escape without one, William Turner."_

_"How do ye know me name?"___

_"They did read it before the hanging" he commented as he led me further inte a warren o alleyways._

_"Ye have me at a disadvantage."_

_"Captain Mallory" he gave a brief, stiff bow, "at your service."_

_"And I at yours" I replied automatically. _

_"Now that the formalities are out of the way" he plucked a shirt and some trews off o a line and left a coin in their place.  _

_"You over paid" I commented._

_"All in a good cause" he said before skipping up the back steps o me former mates favorite bawdy house._

_"Lucy!" he called._

_"Capt'n Mallory!__  Is Jack with ye?  I don't see the __Pearl__ in the harbor" I'd never heard that much delight in her voice when me mates and I had wandered in here. "How long have ye been in port?"_

_"He's with the Pearl though I've no doubt he'll find his way to you before we weigh anchor. And we only arrived this morning."  Her eyes narrowed as she caught site o me. "I'd like to rent your bathtub."_

_She glanced at me and then back at him clearly torn.  He took her hand "We shan't stay long."  She played with the coins he palmed her "Anything for ye Capt'n Mallory."  She let the hand trail down suggestively but he shook his head._

_"Your pardon, Miss Lucy but we haven't the time.  But I'm sure Sparrow would be overjoyed to correct my rude behavior later this evening."_

_"If ye didn't talk so pretty Capt'n I'd be insulted."_

_"If my poor tongue could encompass the merest tithe of your fairness I would be silver tongued indeed."_

_"Off with ye, ye flatterer.  Yer as bad as Jack."_

_The negro slaves were already hard at work filling the tub.  He ducked back out and returned with a variety o small items just as I was settling inte the water._

_"What are those fer?" I asked warily as he spread them out before him._

_"Your personal grooming has suffered a bit of late.  I intend to correct that."_

_I curled me hand inte a fist when I spotted the straight razor "Ye'r not getting anywhere near me throat with that."_

_I swallowed as those green eyes went te chipped ice "Do you want to live Mr. Turner?  Because quiet frankly I'm inches from leaving you to the tender mercies of the executioner you nearly bit the finger off of."_

_"Aye, I want to live."_

_"Then pay attention, the first rule of not getting caught is don't look guilty.  We are going to walk calmly out of this port with you as my servant."_

_This time I nearly vaulted out o the water "I'm nobody's servant" I yelled but I shrank back from those icy green eyes and sloshed water as I cowered as far inte the back o the tub as I could get.  I'd seen a lot o hard things in the last few years but nothing like those eyes._

_"That's better, Mr. Turner" he tossed a bar o soap and a bit o cloth inte the tub before testing the edge o the razor.  _

_"Honestly, if I had meant to kill you all I needed to do was let them hang you.  I could have saved my arrows and a scramble across that slick tile roof."_

_"Ye were the archer?"_

_Instead o answering he picked up his silver tipped walking stick and unscrewed the top.  With a quick flick o the wrist two halves o a bow fell free and in a flash he had it reassembled and strung.  A single arrow remained inside the hollow body o the thick stave.  It took him a bit longer te turn it back inte a walking stick but not much._

_"Right clever trick."___

_He ran a hand along the gleaming wood.  The lines o the bow had been worked inte a decorative pattern further concealing its real nature._

_"It's one of the best gifts I ever received."_

_"Wouldn't a pistol have been easier?"_

_"First, I don't have your knack with a gun and you couldn't afford for me to miss.  Second, a pistol shot would never have produced the same terror that those arrows did.  As it stands I haven't had to kill anyone yet today.  If at all possible I'd like to keep it that way."  He lathered me face and gave me a quick, competent shave before moving on te me hair.  _

_"What have you been doing?  Letting birds nest on your head?" _

_I jerked forward "What are you doing?"_

_"Cutting your hair.__  It would take days to get this rat's nest untangled.  Don't fret it will grow back.  Actually this way I have to use less dye."_

_"Dye?"___

_"Red isn't really your color but I've noticed that it tends to catch the eye.  People focus on the hair and are less likely to notice the features." _

_I stopped protesting and just let the mad man do what he willed with me. Me eyes slid shut as I finally relaxed inte the slightly grimy warm water.  I just gave up.  He would get us out o this or he wouldn't.  I had told him I wanted te live and was certainly glad not te have followed Luke and Mac in their gallows dance but I wondered too what he wanted with me.  Nobody does anything for free.  I'd learned that the hard way and I had the scars te prove it.  I tensed as I remembered him spurring the doxy.  Sailors don't turn down a willing woman hours after coming ashore from a long haul.  Not unless, I was suddenly very uncomfortable naked in the bath.  He gave me hair a critical look as I sat up.  _

_"Not the best I've ever done but it will serve" he nodded te the cloths "Get dressed while I return these to Mary and borrow some powders from Ellie."_

_                I was blinking at me red touched with grey at the temples hair and wondering about him.  If his tastes swung that way why was he apparently on a first name basis with half the doxies in the place? Hell, he knew them bloody well enough te know which one te ask fer what he needed. Or did he know because he liked te, te dress like a lass?  And why had he left me te dress in private?  Or was that proof he did prefer boys?  Or was I being a blooming idiot?  Well if he thought I'd be repaying him in that coin he'd have another thought coming.  I started when his face appeared behind me.  _

_"Don't be so bloody cat footed" I snapped "Ye took a year off me life."_

_"A fair trade since this morning you didn't have a year.  Have a seat."  He had two brushes and an array o colored powders spread afore him.  He choose a pale powder which he quickly dusted over me face before moving on te a darker one.  I fidgeted as the time began te drag._

_"Please don't.  It's been years since I've done this."_

_"Why would ye ever have done this?"_

_"Don't talk until I'm finished" he ordered in a tone that had me jaw locking shut o its own accord.  "I was once a member of an acting troupe.  I got rather good actually at stage makeup but I'm terribly out of practice."_

_I felt meself relax a little at a reasonable explanation that had nothing te do with odd nocturnal activities.  O course that left me back a square one as te why he was doing this at all._

_He picked up a mirror and spun it "What do you think, Mr. Turner?"_

_He caught me hand as I started te touch me face in shock._

_"Don't, you'll smear it" me hand dropped instantly_

_He'd added twenty years o hard living and subtly altered the lines o me face.  I wasn't sure me Ma would even know me.  _

_"Now, I've business to see to" He indicated a sea chest with several items piled atop it "Let's go."_

_"Leaving so soon?" another doxy pouted on the stairs.  She glanced at and around me "Where's Jack?"_

_"I'll be sure to tell him you inquired after him.  My thanks for the loan of your cosmetics."_

_                We left boldly through the front door o __Petticoat Lane__, turned onte Beaver, and inte the Captain's Cup.  The burly man in a modest wig instantly broke inte a wide grin._

_"Well, well look what the wind blew in.  Captain Mallory as I live and breath. Where have ye been ye scalawag?"_

_"Here and there, mostly there" he answered._

_"I don't see the __Pearl__ in the harbor.  Don't tell me ye really have given her te Jack Sparrow?  I could use a first mate" he offered hopefully but Captain Mallory shook his head._

_"Sparrow has a bit more growing to do first.  She's in Smuggler's Cove.  I didn't want to get trapped in port like you did."_

_"Ye always were three steps ahead" he sighed and wiped his forehead "Did ye see me new ship?"_

_"So you're the one with the brand new washtub out in the bay" Mallory replied "I'd have had the yard master at the gratings."_

_"For what?"___

_"You're stuck in port at least another fortnight, right?"_

_"Aye"_

_"Put her in dry dock and refit her whole hull."_

_"But she's fresh out o the shipyard in __London__" what I could only assume was another Captain protested._

_"And she's only got 2 and a half inch plank and over a third of it second rate board to begin with.  She's warping out there in the harbor and she hasn't got enough wood in her hull.  I'm frankly surprised you managed to get as many cannon on her as you did without one going through the decking."_

_"I can't.  Unless you're willing to pull the __Pearl__ into the harbor and play guard?"___

_Captain Mallory shook his head "I'm only planning a two day turn around.  I'm meeting a buyer for my current cargo here within the hour and I've already started loading the one I'm taking down the coast."_

_"How do you do it?  I was out at Smuggler's Cove last night and there wasn't a ship in sight and here ye are nearly ready to leave again.  Can you manage to come to dinner tonight?  Sarah will have me at the gratings if she finds out you've been and gone without even a fare thee well."_

_"There isn't time.  I've promised Sparrow and the men an evening on the town if they can get the __Pearl__ loaded in time.  I'll have a mountain of things to do board if I'm to keep my timetable."_

_"You've got to be the hardest task master on the seven seas but men fight for the right to sail with you and I can't even sign on a crew."_

_"That's because I have this novel concept – I actually pay my crew a wage.  Not many good men are willing to sail under a 'no prey, no pay' agreement especially with the lion's share going to your backers in __London__."_

_"Aye, well I have been rethinking that."_

_Captain Mallory reached down and fished a bottle out of the chest I'd been lugging around.  He called for a brace o glasses and poured himself and the other Captain a drink._

_"Sit.  You've signed up with Charles Talbot, the Earl of __Shrewsbury__ and Lord Belmont."  Those names were branded inte me mind along with their laughing faces when Charles had handed me an empty gun.  Both members o the __Cockpit Circle__, both hip deep in the intrigues that had brought King William te the throne. _

_"They're not men to cross lightly."_

_"They're not the ones that will sweat, and bleed, and risk there lives for the booty.  It isn't right that they should take the lion's share for no more than signing a slip of paper."_

_"Right or wrong if they even think you're double crossing them they'll hang you for a pirate."_

_"Jesus wept! Captain, I'm no pirate and never will be."_

_"It won't matter.  Don't change the articles."_

_"I won't get a crew otherwise.  What will they think if I just sit at the blood dock?" he paused "You think I'm a fool don't you Captain?"_

_Captain Mallory sighed and fiddled with the glass he had yet to take a drink from "Do you really want an honest answer?"_

_"I'll take that as a yes."_

_"Why, William?  You have a lovely wife, a beautiful little girl you're going to miss seeing grow up even if you end up outdoing Drake, and enough money in the bank that you never need to sail again."_

_"But it's Sarah's money.  What kind o man let's his wife support him?"  He took a sip "What is this?"_

_"It's __Madeira__.  I just came from there with 10 pipes of it."_

_"And you brought it here?  There had to be better ports to offload something like this.  You'd fetch five times the price you'll get here in __London__ or __Amsterdam__."_

_"Well this actually wasn't supposed to be my next port of call but the Wind brought me some interesting news."_

_The other William flushed._

_"Is it really so terrible that you'd risk your whole life and future.  You're a perfectly capable merchant captain.  You could make a perfectly good living on coastal runs that'd have you at home two thirds of the year.  You could even take both of your Sarahs along on some of them.  Instead you're signing on a crew that's more than half pirates themselves to hunt other pirates some of them close family.  The East India Company will consider you an enemy and an interloper and will do everything they can to thwart you.  The Royal Navy will consider that you're taking on airs and try to knock the wind out of your sails, possibly with a few cannon balls.  There won't be a single port that's friendly to you.  And that's leaving out strange tropical diseases and all the other dangers of wind and sea.  Don't do this."_

_"It's too late to back out now.  Besides, Captain, this is my chance to be something more than just a moderately successful merchant captain."_

_Captain Mallory pinched the bridge o his nose "Then will you take some practical advice?"_

_"Gladly, you were the best captain I ever sailed under."_

_"When Fletcher lifts the order that's keeping the Adventure Galley in port, take the two weeks and dry dock her.  Otherwise you'll be manning the pumps double time by the time you round __Cape__Good__ Hope.  And get a better ship's doctor yours is more likely to pickle himself than save someone.  And take out the whipstaff and put in a proper wheel."_

_The other man chuckled "What is it you have against whipstaffs?  Not one ship in ten has a wheel."_

_Captain Mallory's reply was lost to the arrival of another man._

_"Ah, Mr. Livingston" I froze.  It was Livingstone who had turned us in but he didn't even bat an eye at me._

_"Captain Mallory, a pleasure to see you as always."_

_"My pleasure is undoubtedly as great as your own." He produced another glass and poured Livingstone a measure o pale liquor._

_He rolled it on his tongue "You do know how to find the finest merchandise.  You could serve this at a king's table.  You say you have ten pipes?"_

_"Yes"_

_Livingstone looked doubtful "They can't possibly all be as fine as this" he began and then froze as Captain Mallory caught him with a green glare.  It was good to know I wasn't the only one who could be cowed by a single glance.  I let me mind wander as they got down te serious negotiations._

_The other William chuckled as Livingstone left "I'd like to be there when some dockside merchant actually calls your bluff."  _

_He kept chuckling even when then dagger keen glance turned his way "Who says it's a bluff?"_

_"I do and so would Jack.  I sailed with you too many years not to have figured when you're really of a murderous intent and when you're faking."_

_"Hold your tongue, you'll ruin my reputation with my new crewman before I even get him properly terrorized."_

_"And you complain about me signing on pirates.  At least I don't actually pull them off the gallows."_

_Captain Mallory shrugged "Sparrow hasn't forced me to make a daring rescue in weeks.  It wouldn't do to get out of practice."_

_"Bows and arrows though?"_

_"Don't knock it.  I can fire a dozen arrows in less time than it takes you to fire three rounds and I'd actually hit most of the targets."_

_There was a clatter outside.  I would have bolted in terror but Captain Mallory was suddenly standing on me foot as a troop o the guard filed in._

_"Captain Mallory, Captain Kidd we're seeking the pirate that escaped this morning, have you seen him?"_

_"I've been here looking for a crew all bloody day" Captain Kidd sighed._

_"And you Captain Mallory? I don't see your ship in the harbor."_

_"I spoke to Governor Fletcher this morning. We reached an amicable agreement."_

_They looked right at me and then filed back out.  I sagged inte a chair when they were gone.  Captain Mallory passed me his still untouched drink "Have some Medeira."_

_I knocked it back in a single gulp._

_"Now that is a terrible waste of fine liquor" Captain Kidd complained before pouring another round._

_"How much did that amicable agreement cost you?"_

_"A dram of Medeira, a bolt of fine silk, and a tea service from __China__. You know someday, just once mind, I'd like to meet an honest public official. I've met more unicorns."_

_"Where have you been?"_

_"We celebrated New Year's in __Singapore__ and I stayed an extra week in __Lisbon__ so the crew could have Easter ashore."  _

_He had to be lying.  No ship afloat could sail from __Singapore__ to __Lisbon__ in less than eight months much less two._

_"How do you bloody do it?  I modeled the Adventure off the __Pearl__ and I'm barely getting a quarter of the speed." I was surprised to realize that Captain Kidd believed him._

_"Modeled on the __Pearl__ how?" Captain Mallory sounded incredulous._

_"One-hundred and twenty feet, thirty-six guns, sweeps, and the same rigging" Kidd replied._

_"And an utterly different hull design.  The Adventure has nearly twice __Pearl__'s beam."_

_"They wouldn't build a ship that narrow.  They didn't even want to include the sweeps.  Stay an extra day and come to dinner" he pled and then sighed "Will you at least drink to a fool's success?"_

_Captain Mallory raised his glass and clicked it against Kidd's "Wind to your sails and the absolute best of luck, Captain William Kidd."  He took a sip and Kidd grinned like a fool.  _

_"Anything you care to share?"_

_"Tell Sparrow he owes me a bottle of rum."_

_"You tell him when we come to dinner tomorrow." Kidd's grin grew wider as he rose to leave.  He turned back "When you tire of Jack Sparrow's folly they'll always be a place for you on the Adventure."_

_Captain Mallory cursed quietly as the tavern door closed and he pushed what was left o his drink te me._

_"He's a dead man isn't he?" I asked quietly._

_"If his crew doesn't kill him the Earl of __Shrewsbury__ will" I could well believe that "I give it no more than two years before he swings.  Another good man dead for his own pride and another's greed."  Captain Mallory pronounced wearily…_

                "He saved me life and gave me back me self respect" my father sighed.  "I don't know what I would have become if I'd have kept going the way I was.  I would probably have fit in just fine with Barbossa's lads in a few more years."

"I rather doubt that" Mallory said quietly from behind us.

"Ye're still too bloody cat footed" my father grumbled.

"How on the sea did I become the focus of conversation?" he asked.  We both shrugged neither wanting to talk about the hobgoblin's warning if Mallory hadn't heard it himself.  Jack looked terribly disappointed.  Either he hadn't managed his opportune moment yet or Elizabeth hadn't figured out the insult.  I glanced at her.  Oh yes she had.  I'd have to ask later, or maybe not.  I had learned a few things in two years of wedded 'bliss'.  Actually I think I was more nervous now, I knew that look, she was waiting for her own opportune moment for revenge.   When Elizabeth starts plotting I start worrying.   I had a more immediate quandary of my own.  How does one politely inquire of an incredibly powerful, temperamental elven prince whether or not he's turned your former land lord into a donkey?  Or killed him? Or, just possibly, done nothing to him at all?  Somehow when Mum was using that wooden spoon to instill my manners this particular question had never come up.  I can't imagine why.  I finally settled for

"What ever became of Mr. Bolger?"

Mallory canted his head to the side "I would imagine, Cennan, that you would have a better idea of your ass's fate than I."

'Alright back to the anvil with that one' I thought.  I was about to ask about the Norringtons and the 'White Rose' when Elizabeth spooned some surprisingly good soup into my mouth.  Well, at least the time in the galley hadn't been a complete loss. 

Everyone but Mallory jumped when a walking stave came flying at his head.  He just coolly caught it and then smoothly dodged another flying object.

"I was wondering when you'd get to that" he muttered.

**Historical Notes:  **Princess Anne, Lord and Lady Churchill, Lord Ossory, Lord Belmont, and the Earl of Shrewsbury are real historical figures and most of their actions really happened.  And to the best of my knowledge Lord Churchill remains the only English lieutenant-general to ever desert his King in the field on the eve of a battle.  1687 outbreak of small pox in Whitehall was considered particularly virulent whether this was because it killed several people of importance or because it really was I don't know.   Tom, Sir Edwin, Kitty, and Sir Rhys are of course products of my own over active imagination. 

Governor Fletcher was in fact the governor of New York in 1696 and did require that all bribes be in objects d'art (silver preferred) for turning a blind eye to all but the most flagrant pirates.  Captain Kidd was in town from July to Sept trying to round up a crew for a privateering mission.  Unfortunately he signed on more 'former' pirates than honest sailors and the rest is history.  The streets of New York were paved in oyster shells in 1696.  The Indian allies of the French did indeed attack along the frontier that summer causing the Governor to send all available troops inland and to order all ships to remain in port to defend the city.  Livingstone was minor backer in Kidd's plans and the one that betrayed his new articles to the lords in London.

As a further note like Captain Morgan I've adjusted real history in that I've rocked the beginning of Captain Kidd's doomed adventure to 1693 so that it lines up better with Blood of Avalon's timeline. 


	6. A Villain and a Hero

**Author's note:  **My thanks to all my reviewers.  Lyn, welcome and thank you.  (As to Mallory's survival you'll just have to keep reading :)

I meant to note on the previous chapter while historically everything that happened w/ Captain Kidd would technically belong in 1696 for story chronology purposes I'm pretending it occurred in 1694.  (Hey if Braveheart can get away with having Mel getting a four year old pregnant I should be able to get a way with a couple of measly years, right?  The author listens carefully and hears only the 17 year cicadas.)  In reality Kidd sailed in Sept 1696, returned in Nov 1698, and was quite probably the only English captain ever sentenced to death for killing a common seaman actively engaged in a mutiny in 1701.  If I tweak the timeline a bit with 1694 as the start, Dec 1696 for the capture, and 1699 for the execution it all falls nicely into place.  Neither Mallory nor Jack is in any position to help their old friend since Sparrow lost the Pearl (for my purposes) in Dec 1696.  By 1698 when Mallory at least could help Kidd would be out of his reach in London.  Kidd's trial was a seventeenth century sensation to match the OJ trial a few years ago complete with royal scandals, noble intrigues, and an accused who kept insisting no matter what evidence was presented that HE WAS NOT A PIRATE!!  (Speaking of evidence the Admiralty hid some that would have cast doubt on his conviction and might have even cleared him.) This would nicely account for Elizabeth's passion for pirates in 1699 since everyone was still talking about the trial and if they came from London they would have sailed right past Kidd's body on display in its cage.

**DH**:  Double yay for reviews!!

Historical Note: see above and bottom 

Blood of Avalon 

Chapter 6: A Villain and a Hero 

"Who'd get around te what?"  Jack asked before picking up one of the assorted items that were raining down at Mallory.  "Thank you" he muttered to no one "been looking for this."

Mallory answered while catching a bottle and nimbly dodging a rock "Pearl is less than best pleased with me."

"Don't" he snapped "those are" glass scattered across the decking as he managed to catch only four out of five "breakable" he finished.  "It really wasn't my fault, lass.  I wasn't given a choice in the matter."

"Choice in what?" Jack asked the flickering of the ship's lanterns casting strange shadows on his face.

"Leaving Pearl to Barbossa" Mallory replied as he continued his strange dance, catching some items midair and merely avoiding others.  "Please, Pearl" he implored "Do you think this was ever what I wanted?"  He raised his eyes cautiously as the assault ceased.

Elizabeth frowned "The Pearl is Jack's ship, right?"

"Always" Mallory replied with utter conviction.

"And he's the one that lost her to Barbossa?  And forced you to agree that he would get her back without your help?"

Jack looked distinctly displeased at the reminder

"Yes" Mallory was still watching warily.

"Then why is she angry with you?" Elizabeth asked looking both confused and still angry herself.

Mallory sighed "Milady, if Cennan had gone to your father and demanded that he, and he alone, would rescue you and then took nearly ten years to accomplish said rescue what would have to say to your father when you next met?"

"Nothing pleasant" Elizabeth allowed with a hint of a smile.

"In that you and Pearl are, I assure you, in complete accord" Mallory replied and winced "That's not fair."  He shook his head "You don't understand."  A pause "Think what you like, then" in defeat.

"What is all this stuff?" she asked picking up what could only be the walking stick/bow that he had used to save my father.

"All the items I never had an opportunity to retrieve plus some of the ballast out of the hold" he replied with a rueful glance at the broken glass.  He used the edge of a tray to brush the glass over the side and was about to sit when Anna-Maria marched over and slapped him.

"Sparrow's over there" he said pointing to Jack helpfully.  She cracked him across the other cheek in reply.  Jack's eyebrows went up and he grinned merrily.  Seeing someone else getting slapped must be a pleasant change of pace.

"What was that for?" Mallory asked coldly.  Apparently he didn't take getting slapped with the same resignation as Jack.  Jack straightened up, smile fading, and tried to catch Anna-Maria's eye.

"You took me home!" she hissed back "I thought I could trust you."

"You're lucky I didn't turn you over my knee to boot.  You were a spoiled brat when you were fourteen and you're still a spoiled brat now."  This time he caught her hand "You raise your hand to me again Miss Baldran."  Elizabeth gasped at the name which meant absolutely nothing to me "and a broken arm will be the gentlest reply you can expect."

Anna-Maria tilted her chin up proudly "Ye don't know what it's like te be smothered by a father that thinks ye're made o glass."

Mallory's response was the bitterest excuse for a laugh I've ever heard.

"Given that every interaction I've ever had with my sire was calculated to break either body or soul, no, Miss, I don't know.  I don't have a clue what it's like to have parents who want only the absolute best for their children.  Who consider their child as something other than either a rival or a tool." Mallory rebutted in a tone icier than any winter day I could remember.  "What I do know is that man who could once have summoned a thousand of the Brethren of the Coast came to me on the edge of tears because he couldn't save his little girl from the mess she'd willingly leapt into.  If it wasn't for the affection I had for your parents I would quite cheerfully have left you to sort it out on your own.  And I can guarantee if I had you wouldn't be alive right now.  I took you where you were too stupid to realize you belonged."  He took a step back and gave her the same 'something unpleasant from under a rock' look he'd given the hinges all those years ago.  "You still don't have the slightest notion what kind of trouble you were in or the ramifications to your father's position.  All poor little Miss Baldran and not a thought in your head for anyone else" he spat on the deck at her feet.

Anna-Maria tossed her head even higher.

"Don't tempt me to summon a rain cloud.  You're likely to drown." Mallory's voice had more lacerating edges than the glass he'd just swept into the sea.

"If you think" she started to wave a finger under his nose but Jack caught her arms.  She shrugged him off and slapped him "You keep your hands off me, Jack Sparrow."

**"Captain** Jack Sparrow" he reminded her in a surprisingly stern tone "ye've duties te attend, now."  He'd maneuvered himself between Anna-Maria and Mallory.  I didn't know this man.  This was the Mallory that frightened my father and Gibbs.  The one I hadn't really seen the least indication of in the three months we'd spent together.  Mallory took another step back at least willing to let the matter lie but Anna-Maria continued over Jack's shoulder "That I'm going to go crawling back to my father begging forgiveness you're as daft as Jack always claimed you where."

"Oh, you're far too late for that Miss Baldran" Mallory riposted.

Both she and Jack paused "What do ye mean by that?" Jack asked quietly.

"Your father died in 1704" he replied in the same cold, high handed tone making no attempt to soften the blow.

Jack reacted first "Not Lorencillo" he scoffed.  And then you could see acceptance in his eyes and he blinked hard before producing a bottle of rum. 

"Gents, and ladies" he said with a nod to Elizabeth "A toast te the finest bloody pirate te ever sail the Caribbean, God rest his soul.  To De Griffe" he took a long pull and passed it to Anna-Maria who gulped numbly and, surprisingly, passed it to Mallory who took a sip before handing it to my father. 

I didn't know the name Baldran but no one lived in the Caribbean long without hearing the name De Griffe.  De Griffe – the mulatto slave who had become not just a pirate Captain or even a Commodor, but the closest thing the pirates had to an Admiral.  A man even his enemies spoke of with respect and awe.  He even eventually stopped being a pirate and became a Sieur, a knight, of France and the Lieutenant du Roi.  Then abruptly he laid down his sword, left the sea, and retired to his sugar plantation with his mad Breton wife and their daughters in 1699.  If Anna-Maria was a couple of years older than Elizabeth and I the timing would be right for Anna-Maria to be the cause of his mysterious withdraw.   I gave Anna-Maria another look and decided she must have her mother's temper.  Stories about De Griffe always grew bigger with the telling.  I'd never believed the one about his wife.  According to the tales in 1684 when De Griffe was in port celebrating one of his many victories he had made a less than genteel comment about a woman walking past.  Enraged Marie-Anne Dieu-le-Veut had pulled a pistol and cutlass on the pirate king and his men and demanded an apology.  Impressed with her courage he offered to marry her instead.  The next day when she came down the aisle instead of a fan and parasol she had a bandoleer of pistols and cutlass to accent her wedding gown.    Apparently the courage De Griffe had so prized in his wife had been unwelcome in his daughter.  I put my hand on Elizabeth's and prayed that we'd have better fortune with our daughter than Mallory and De Griffe had with their children.  Mallory had been too lax, De Griffe too restrictive.  I felt a flutter of fear that such otherwise competent men had failed. 

 It was a much more subdued Anna-Maria who asked "Et ma mere?"

"If you want to see your mother alive you will go back to Cap Francois, very soon."

"You can't do anything for her then?" Jack asked.

Mallory shook his head "I can't turn back the hands of time and" there was a profound weariness in his sigh "some diseases I can heal easily, some with difficulty, and some I actually make worse.  There isn't a thing I can do for Marie but kill her quicker. "

Anna-Maria turned to go but Jack grabbed her arm and tucked her into his chest.  So, Elizabeth was right.  I hoped, probably in vain, that she'd have forgotten that particular argument. 

She pushed him away "Not in front o the crew."

"Bugger'em" Jack rebutted "Let 'em find their own strumpets."

She slapped him gently "Watch yer tongue, Captain Jack Sparrow."  She pushed away "I've duties te attend te."

"They can wait luv."

"I'd rather be busy."

He stepped aside, turned to Mallory the instant she was out of earshot, and snapped "Ye might have been kinder."

"Marie doesn't have enough time for me to be kind" he replied as he returned to that earlier coolly formal tone. 

Jack stiffened and then flipped open his compass and shouted some orders before turning back "Nice te know ye weren't really going te break her arm."

"I don't make idle threats, Sparrow, and you know it."

Governor Swann cleared his throat nervously before squeaking "That isn't a terribly gentlemanly way to treat a lady."

"Ah, the good Governor always so concerned with propriety" Governor Swann backed all the way up against the rail as Mallory's attention turned to him "so concerned, in fact, that you were willing to shoot a man for the horrible crime of saving your daughter's life.  Your gratitude, Sir, leaves a great deal to be desired.  And I hardly think that a man who made his fortune through embezzlement and graft has any business condemning pirates."

The Governor's mouth just worked while Jack appraised him with what appeared to be admiration, Elizabeth looked aghast, and my father gave me a 'told ye so' glance.  So much for Mallory's help in smoothing over things between my father and father-in-law. 

"You couldn't possibly have proof" he finally sputtered.

"I have more proof than you had about Captain Jack Sparrow.  Bound by the law, indeed" he scoffed "You could have let Sparrow off in at least three different ways without even raising an eyebrow back in London.  You wanted Captain Sparrow on those gallows and I must confess I wonder why but know this Governor Swann when you had Sparrow on those gallows I crafted a series of curses.  Those against your daughter and Cennan, Zander, and the Pearl's current crew I allowed to dissipate uncast.  But not the ones against you and they hang over you like a sword.  Should Captain Jack Sparrow come to the least harm because of you when death finally claims you you will embrace it like a lover."  His eyes were cat-slitted and glowing, not just catching and reflecting light but glittering with their own malevolence.

Governor Swann's eyes rolled back up in his head and he vanished backwards over the rail in a faint.

"So that's where she gets in from" Jack commented as Elizabeth flew to the rail and a wave rolled a soggy, sputtering Governor Swann back over the rail. 

"As to my lack of chivalry" Mallory continued as if the interruption had never occurred and the Governor left puddles on the deck "Anna-Maria has demanded to be treated as one of the men.  I'm just giving the lady what she requested."

"You had no right" Elizabeth snapped as she stepped between Mallory and her father.  I started to rise but Jack pushed me back down.  He was right.  There was no anger directed at Elizabeth, amusement maybe, but no anger.

"No right?  On the contrary, milady, I have every right.  By the Brehon treaty the right to live upon the British Isles was ceded to humans while the Ellyllon moved permanently into the Cynfyd.  We were, I assure you, **NOT** conquered.  And we retained the right to rule all of our former Outland territories.  Not desiring to be forever entangled in your petty disputes House Rigion was appointed to rule as stewards in our stead.  Anyone who claims a throne in Scotland, Ireland, England, Wales, Brittany without Rigion blood is a usurper.   And there hasn't been a Rigion on any of those thrones since the last one fell on the field of Camlan in 517."  He paused and looked at her expectantly.

"Camlan?" her eyes widened "You can't mean Arthur?"

"Wisdom, in her six-pillared hall, would be impressed with milady" it wasn't quite flirting and it wasn't quite flattery.  I was at a loss as to what to call his manner with her.  Elizabeth's eyes narrowed clearly not as easily charmed or trusting as earlier.  "Artorius Rex, actually if you wish to be completely accurate."

"So he really does sleep in Avalon, waiting to return" you could hear the excitement in her voice.  Elizabeth and her heroes, you would think having discovered that pirates weren't what she thought she'd have pulled her head out of the clouds.

"Anoeth byd beddi Artorius – the grave of Arthur is a mystery.  Or at least that is the folk wisdom" he sighed "It is my cheerless duty to inform you that the sleep of Arthur in Avalon is the sleep of the dead.  He rests in his father, Myrddin Emrys', tomb on the Tewi Stryd, the Silent Street."

"But Uther was Athur's father" she protested.

"As milady knows, tales often told change in the telling.  I have stood before my cousin's sepulcher and he was indeed the son of 'Merlin' whose true name was Emrys ap Weldig Prince of Avalon, and a lady of the Rigion."

"And Excalibur?"

"Caladrwlch" Mallory replied.

"What?"

"The name Excalibur is the invention of some troubadour who didn't care for the sword's real name – Calarwlch."

I could empathize with the minstrel.

"But we're roving too far a field, milady, fascinating though the topic may be.   My point was in the absence of either a Rigion King or the King of Avalon by Blood right I hold ultimate authority over all those who have any allegiance to the British Isles.   Given the circumstances I am hardly in a position, nor in truth, do I wish to deal with every dishonest, petty bureaucrat I encounter" oh, but the Governor didn't care for that "but when a man who has sworn to uphold both law and justice then uses his position against my kin"

"I hate te interrupt" Jack broke in "but I'm beginning te get the impression She doesn't have me best interests in mind."

Governor Swann glanced up, saw the Sea above him just outside the rail, and promptly fainted again.  His wig went askew as he slumped backward and covered his face.

"Boddhain sefyll" Mallory requested.  I never would have believed water could glare.  She vanished. 

"Why is She so angry with me?" Jack asked in confusion.

"Her opinion of you took a severe downward turn in San Juan de Ulua and hasn't ever really been the same since."

Jack put a hand on Mallory's chest "Sorry about that."

Mallory shrugged nonchalantly but he took a step backward as well "No lasting harm done, Sparrow.  I recovered long before you did.  At least it wasn't a complete loss we found out you aren't magically defenseless.  You don't know how it worried me, Sparrow, that a mardaeth or a cythraul, or a score of the King's guard, or, Dragons forbid, a difaenaid would find you while they were hunting me."

"Don't tell me you're glad I nearly killed you."

"I confess I would have preferred that you had chosen a different target particularly with that move.  It is one of the more lethal ones in my repertoire.   There aren't many, even among the more powerful cyfae, capable of surviving it."  He was still detachedly polite.  I had crept up to the Governor's mansion once to spy on Elizabeth and the other rich kids with their tutor, the tone was the same.  I had yet to see the slightest trace of the laughing eyes I remembered so well. 

Mallory continued "The aberath I forged aboard the Dominant is fading rapidly and you are coming into your own full strength.  It will not be much longer ere the King of Avalon realizes you survived."

Jack, Elizabeth, and I all frowned.  He hadn't said 'discovers you exist' but 'realizes you survived' which could only mean at some point the King of Avalon had known about Jack.  It was frustrating.  Even when we were given information it only created more questions.  Why would the King have thought Jack was dead?  Where did Jack come from?  And if I was curious it had to be a torment to Jack to be so close to answers and not have them.  Speaking of answers I was willing to bet that mysterious journal of his had to have quite a few.  Elizabeth's eyes narrowed and I followed her gaze to Mallory's chest.  Apparently we were starting to think alike.  I could see the wheels turning just lying here.   Somehow I didn't think he would find the theft of his diary amusing though Elizabeth would certainly consider it an appropriate revenge.  I made a mental note to have Jack present when it happened and when Mallory found out.

Mallory was still speaking "Now that you are Captain of the Black Pearl again, no magical creature, myself included, can come aboard without your express permission."

"O course, you" Jack began only to be instantly cut off by Mallory.

"Don't" he snapped angrily "don't give me carte blanche.  Don't trust me either, it isn't safe."

"Ye teach me everything I know worth knowing, ye build me the best ship on the sea, I nearly kill you and you nearly die for me and I'm not te trust ye?  I know I'm an ungrateful sot but when a man gets every bone in his body broken for ye it tends te make ye think he might have yer best interests in mind."

"198 actually, they missed 10, though there were actually 397 individual breaks.  Someone apparently took a profound dislike to my left humerus.  I had no idea it could be broken 23 times.  It was quite a challenge to restore, particularly since the pieces became so badly displaced when Gibbs and Norrington heaved me over the rail."

'How in God's name could anyone talk so dispassionately about being battered into a pulp?' I marveled to myself.

Elizabeth, Jack, and Gibbs all started to speak at once but it was Gibbs that caught Mallory's attention. 

He swallowed and straightened "I'm right sorry for that, that I sent ye living over the rail."

"Why should you be sorry?  That was, in fact, the plan from the beginning" he paused "well actually you weren't supposed to notice that I was alive but then you assumed I drowned so it all worked out in the end.  At least for the aberath" he gave Gibbs another of his sweeping bows "but you have both my immeasurable regrets and my profound apologies for what followed.  I gravely miscalculated Bledri's response and the Dominant's crew paid the price.  I am sorry that I couldn't save more than a handful of you and that you have spent eight years thinking you killed me. Which reminds me" he pulled something off his finger and tossed it to Gibbs.  

Gibbs caught the ring and slipped it back on his own finger shaking his head.  "I stand aside and watch all that and ye apologize te me?"

"You did, Mr. Gibbs, exactly what I wanted you to do.  Well except for being guilt ridden, though you became a somewhat loyal friend to Sparrow because of it.  Did you have to sail off without him at Isla de Muerta?  I could live another eight hundred odd years quite contentedly without ever needing to see Sparrow on yet another scaffold."

'How often has Jack ended up on the gallows without actually being hung?' I wondered and 'how long do Penthalions live?  And how old was Mallory anyway?'

"If it wasn't impossible for one of my kind he'd have turned me gray years ago" Mallory muttered.

I'd never actually considered before what it had to be like to be Jack's father, good God what a nightmare!  Are Elven princes were eligible for sainthood?  Because Jack's survival had to be both a miracle of biblical proportions and a testament to Mallory's depth of patience.  I like Jack.  I really, truly do.  I risked my life to get him off that scaffold and I'd do it again.  He is a good man and, in all honesty, he is, well, fun, and mad, and brilliant but to be **responsible** for him?!   Forget the seventy-seven years in the oubliette – Jack should have driven Mallory mad just by being Jack.

"So ye never actually intended te die?" Jack asked with an odd intensity.

"Not then, no."

Again that flicker of worry in Jack's eyes.  The same one as when he'd learned he really did hear the Wind.  I wondered what the Wind had told him.

Mallory had continued speaking "I'd toyed with the idea of faking an aberath on a number of occasions but never before had I deemed the various rewards worth the risk.  It's never a safe thing to slow dance that closely with death but I gambled that I was capable of surviving more punishment than Bledri could stomach or Cavendish could inflict.  At least I didn't miscalculate there.  I really, truly should have known Zander would do something foolishly noble, 'Norringtons' are like that.  All stiff formality and then they go and do something stupid.  But Bledri was the surprise.  I misjudged him, again."  His voice went softer and higher "Odd that in the end I did him nearly as much harm as my sire and grandsire when that was never my intent."

Gibbs surprised everyone by laying a hand on Mallory's arm "He laid the blame fer all o it squarely at yer father's feet.  All he ever had for ye was a respect that bordered on awe.  He thought ye were a marvel."

"Which neatly proves that Bledri was far too easily impressed" Mallory replied before sidling back.

"All he could was do curl up with that bottle o his and rave about yer courage.  Called ye a walking miracle. Claimed ye shouldn't have been able te sting three words tegether in a sensible order any more and yet there ye'd sat willing and ready te charge back inte the fray."

"I'm less than sure I've ever strung three words in an intelligent manner, Mr. Gibbs" he was rapidly retreating back into his formal mode.  "Nor does it change the fact that I robbed him of his gobaith - of his hope.  I was his only chance at anything resembling justice for his family and I deceived and manipulated him into thinking he was an accomplice in my death."

"It wasn't his family he was mourning fer on the Dominant."  Gibbs observed.

I don't know if Gibbs had actually meant for it to be comforting or if it had simply slipped out but he scored a direct hit below the waterline.  Grief and guilt flashed through those eyes before he closed them.  When they reopened a moment later they were again completely shuttered. 

There was an awkward pause and then Elizabeth sniped "I'm surprised you returned to San Juan de Ulua, or did you finally recover your nerve?"

Everyone within hearing except Mallory blinked at her like she'd lost her mind.

 He merely gave her a sardonic smile and said "Milady will have to try harder than that."

"You have no shame that you abandoned those men to die?" she riposted.

"I might if I had done so, but in 1567 I was encouraging Mary Queen of Scots to commit political suicide, starting a war in France, keeping William the Silent alive, and fermenting a major rebellion in the Netherlands, all in all I was far too busy for a Caribbean vacation.  And in 1572 when the real Francis Drake was abandoning yet another ally I was trying to save as many Huguenots from the Saint Bartholomew's Day massacres as I could.  If you wish to insult me for my behavior as Francis Drake you'll have to start after Rathlin in 1575 and end with the Armada in 1588."

Elizabeth frowned in confusion while I did some quick math.  He had to be over one-hundred and sixty-three, absolute minimum, and that was if he was only twenty in 1567.

 "I don't understand."

"I was a changeling, a highwayman of lives instead of riches.  Sometimes only briefly borrowing while they were elsewhere but more commonly I took the place of the dead.  The majority men I had murdered myself."

Elizabeth blanched "That's horrible."

"Those I slew to take the place of were themselves killers, one and all.  I gave every one of them a chance to fight back.  I suggest you have a long talk with your father-in-law about what really goes on behind the glittering mask of the court.  I make no claim of being any better but I was certainly no worse than most of the courtiers among whom I was raised."  He canted his head "And, yes, it is horrible.  I never once declared myself a hero."  He caught her eye "You should know by now that it is a dangerous thing to become over familiar with a hero, to be able to see where the shiny armor wears thin."

Elizabeth stared back "Better to know the truth than to live one's life in an illusion."

"On the contrary, I can think of any number of illusions I once held that I would gladly trade for the truths I now know" Mallory countered.  He sighed and dropped his eyes.  I was surprised that Elizabeth had won that contest.  Not she doesn't have a will like steel, but still, to quote Jack, very interesting. 

"Don't ask, lass, for what you don't want to know.  Tonight of all nights I am likely to tell the very bloody truth" he said wearily.

Elizabeth looked suddenly unsure "I've never heard of Rathlin."

"I rather wish I could say the same" his eyes were suddenly far away.  "It's an island on the northern tip of Ireland."  He folded himself up on the rail in a rather precarious position but I suppose it wouldn't really matter if he fell off into the Sea.  "You would pick what I've long considered one of my greatest errors in judgment.  Bess decided that the Irish nobility were a threat to the stability of the realm and in 1573 she sent Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex to Ireland to 'subdue' Ulster.  The only problem was old Walt was double dealing with intentions of using Ireland as a base of operations to attack England with the backing of Spain.  So Bess convinced me to 'fix' the problem for her, permanently, and to actually complete Devereux's original assignment.  Killing him was easy and then I made a fatal mistake.   I'm such an arrogant fool, oh, not me, not trechu.  I never did bloody listen." He sighed and I wished vainly for an El'lan dictionary but he had mercy on us and explained.  "There's more to being a changeling than just weaving a convincing glamour.   You perforce take on some of the character and memories of the person you replace.  Trechu – to be baffled if you're being literal to lose oneself in someone else's mind if you're a changeling.  I wonder if I would done it or not without that.  I'd like to think not but I might have anyway.  It was a perfectly legitimate military target after all."

He was rambling and his left hand drifted up and made an odd tugging motion in the empty air beside his head.  Then I realized – pointed ears – he was pulling on an ear tip I couldn't see.

"The Irish were using the island to bring Scottish mercenaries across.  It made perfect sense to reduce the garrison and replace it with an English one."

Reduce – I shivered at the word knowing it for what it was, a polite military term for the slaughter of an entire garrison.

"Francis Drake provided the ships, I provided the troops and we began our attack on the 22nd of July."  He rocked on the rail as he sang…

By the side of the Sea restless and deep

The sun shone at midnight – I was not asleep

One lone survivor lies bleeding – I kneel

And into her heart I rammed the steal

Cover in blood I sank down shame

With no one but myself to blame.

Rathlin - stripped bare as a bone

The blood of the children calls from the stones

A castle of sorrow perched on a hill

I dream of you still."

The words faded and he just stared off into the distance

"But this was a military target" the Governor surprised us all by saying "You had every right to attack a hostile garrison and subdue those wild Irishmen."

Mallory turned those blank green eyes on him and canted his head "Why do you English think you have the right to rule Ireland when you don't even have the right to rule England?  **You **are the uncivilized invaders.  You talk of King Arthur and Myrddin but it was the English that they fought.  By what right do you drive more of the Old Blood from their father's father's homes? By what madness did I ever assist? And it isn't the reduction of the military garrison that troubles my sleep, Governor, but the fact that I didn't end it there.  The Earl wanted revenge on Sorley Boye MacDonnell and I gave him what he never would have managed on his own.  You see Rathlin wasn't just a garrison it was also a refuge for the wives and wains of the clansmen and the repository of much of the clan's wealth which is why that gutless worm Drake agreed to allow us to use his ships.  It's also how he died.  I ordered him to stay aboard but he wanted first pick of the plunder and got himself shot in the back running from another fight." 

He was pulling on both ears now.

"I didn't stop with the garrison.  Three days" he muttered "it took three days to find them all in the cracks and crevices of the island.  372 women and children.  I can't even claim it was done in the heat of battle before we embarked I sent a magic telescope to Sorley Boye just to make sure he could watch.  Oh, but I was my father's son that day.  When I flew back to London to discuss other matters Bess decided to abandon the Ulster Plan.  Elizabeth Regina Glorianna" he leapt off the rail and gave another sweeping bow "God save us all from the Queen." He continued mockingly in a woman's voice "Despite the fact, Enchiridion, that you've just slaughtered over six hundred souls in my name I'm going to render the whole sordid thing pointless.  And regardless of the fact that it wasn't you that borrowed the funds you'll restore my lost 87,000 pounds sterling by taking Captain Drake's place and plundering New Spain."  He went back to his Mallory voice "Which in all honesty sounded like a better idea than anything involving Bess's trice benighted plans in Ireland."  He went silent staring out across the deck and over the horizon again.

"Enchiridion" Mallory's eyes shifted to Jack who waved his hands even more flamboyantly than usual as he mused "from the Greek, as I recall, but it has two meanings – instructor, or dagger.  Which was she calling you?"

"I was both Bess's assassin and advisor from 1553 until our last quarrel over, oddly enough, Ireland and Walt's son Robert in 1599.  He was betraying her in Ireland and planning to take her throne and to rule in her name.  I offered to solve both problems" He almost smiled "Never would have suspected a sixty-six year old woman in court garb could make a full body tackle.  After which she reminded me that she'd made me swear never to go to Ireland again for her sake.  And I barked back I was an ally not a vassal and she had no right to presume and it rather melted down from there." Another twitch of the lips "And poor Aine.  Everyone else saw the glamour I flung up but she saw the aged Queen of England and the Elven prince rolling around in the rushes screaming over three score years of frustration at each other in a fight the likes of which we hadn't had since we were both seven at Hatfield.  I left lest I kill her.  And for four years I proudly ignored every entreaty.  She turned England upside down but as even those who can use magic to track me will vouch I'm not easy to find when I don't wish to be.  We didn't speak again until February 12th 1603 just before her own death and my recall to Avalon for my defod.  She ambushed me since she knew exactly where I'd be, where I always use to be this night." 

That was the second time he'd made a reference to tonight being something special.  And something about 1603 didn't sound right but I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

"She didn't have to die then, she forced death to claim her" he continued abstractedly. "She refused to let me be the one to say goodbye.  She said she didn't want to live when all her friends were gone.  It's odd, we'd know each other nearly all our lives, raised together, practically cradled together, stanch allies against the whole bloody world for decades but wary children of the court that we were until that night we never, ever said friend.  It is a strange thing to watch someone go from cradle to grave when you barely change yourself.  Those who were babes when I was went to their graves old and gray ere I was recalled, while I was detained in Avalon another whole generation was born and died, and now those who were not yet born when I returned will soon have children of their own.  And I?  I am not, even yet, grown."  He slipped down off the rail and approached Elizabeth who froze in apprehension but stood her ground.  God, but I love her courage even when it frightens me that she'll be hurt.

"So little time, you are here only a few brief moments, like falling stars streaking across the heavens in blazing glory only to burn away to ash.  Ash and dust blown on the winds of fate.  You're like the flowers that bloom so beautifully only to fade in a few brief days and so terribly, tragically, fragile."  He had cupped her chin in his hands and his voice shook "Like butterflies all delicate gossamer.  Like the falling leaves and the withering grass you pass me by, forever leaving me behind."

And then she demonstrated reason why I love her so, her compassion.  Only minutes ago Mallory had threatened her father.  She didn't know all that Mallory had done for me and still raised a hand to comfort him.

He flinched and flushed clearly embarrassed before stepping gracefully back.  "Your pardon for my overly familiar behavior. It is my Diwrnod chan y Arwylo, the Vigil for the Dead.  A time to mourn those taken by time, to seek the forgiveness of those I failed to save, and to honor those I have slain."

 He was playing with an ear tip again.  Oh, I'd forgotten about his comment to Jack on Isla de Muerta about hearing the dead.  Small wonder he was edgy. 

"Under normal circumstances I spend this night alone in some secluded cove."

"I'm sorry" I hadn't meant to interrupt something clearly both sacred and private.

"I came with the full knowledge that I was likely to make an indiscrete fool of myself until I was recovered enough to fly again.  Given the choice between being a fool for a few hours and adding you to those for whom the Vigil is held I heartily prefer the former."  He ruffled my hair but still didn't manage a smile.  At least I knew now it wasn't me – just rotten timing.  Timing – my God!  He did this on the same day, every year, ashore.  If Queen Elizabeth could lay an ambush for him what was to stop something else?  And I could still remember him telling me "A fight isn't just won by a strong sword arm…

_He tapped my forehead "It's won here.  The best swordsman can be beaten if he's distracted – focus is vital."  Then he laid a hand over my heart "And it's won here with hope and determination.  If you go into a fight defeated you will be regardless of the skill of your opponent."_

_"But you told me to fight with the head forget the heart."_

_"Because you were fighting with nothing else.__  Balance is all.  The body must be strong, the mind focused, the heart determined.  The first challenge in any fight is never your opponent but yourself."_

Focused and determined were not words I would use to describe him tonight.  He'd lose even against a lesser opponent.  The absolute last place he belonged was in any kind of fight.

He had continued talking "Besides what kind of fairy godfather would I be if I let you squander a perfectly good happily ever after?"

"Do I still get three wishes?" I asked trying to lighten the mood just a little.

"No" he was playing with an ear tip again. "And I think once I am ready for another long flight I should leave.  I am poor company this night."

"But I haven't had my rematch yet" I blurted desperately.

"Rematch?" Jack's eyes narrowed "So ye're the one that taught the whelp te fight.  I knew I recognized some o those moves as being yers."

"I told you you were going to be something quite special" there was pride in that voice.  He was proud of me.  I could feel myself flushing under that compliment.  After hearing what I had today I had no idea really if he was a villain or a hero but his approval felt very good all the same.

My father looked surprised "You taught Will how to fight?"

"He taught me everything I know about both making and using swords" my heart said hero even if my head wasn't sure.

Governor Swann's courage had obviously recovered sufficiently for him to rejoin the conversation "But Master Brown"

"Shouldn't have been entrusted with a hound let alone an apprentice" Mallory snapped.  It was beginning to look like I was going to need someone to save my father-in-law from Mallory never mind my father.  "But you were too eager to get young Turner away from your daughter to see that."

"Did you know Anne Boleyn?" I wondered how much was honest interest on Elizabeth's part and how much was just to distract Mallory.

"Being only three, I was present solely for the torture sessions and executions so I fear my impressions of Mistress Anne are somewhat skewed."

Well that brought what conversation there was to a crashing halt.  Elizabeth opened her mouth twice before finally settling on "Why were you attending torture sessions and executions at three?"

"Because that is what my grandsire demanded" he had returned to that cool distant tone "I wasn't saved because of any paternal interest.  I was always meant to slay and supplant my sire.  To that end I was given into the tutelage of the Brwnyllys Thomas Cromwell with the understanding that he could use my abilities in any way he saw fit provided that I was trained both as an assassin and an inquisitor.  Cromwell, always eager to advance, had no intentions of waiting to put me to work.  I was already better at glamours than most of my kind ever become hence I was the perfect spy.  My time was divided between the royal nursery in Hatfield, spying in the court at Whitehall, Hampton, or Nonsuch after its construction, and learning the darkest side of human nature in the Tower or Fleet Prison.  I took out my first mark at five and by the time of Cromwell's own execution in 1540 I had more kills to my credit than most human assassins survive to claim." He canted his head "But we were discussing Mistress Anne.  I was far too young to **have** any illusions but I did learn a number of valuable lessons in spite of the fact that I barely knew English.  First, indignatio principis mors est" His eyes flickered to Jack who rolled his own before translating "The anger of the king means death."

Mallory inclined his head and snapped his forefinger "Second there is **no** justice in the law when there is no justice in the king." Another finger broke.  "Even in dewy youth I knew the trial was a farce.  She and the five men executed as her lovers were innocent of every charge brought against them with the possible exception of laughing at the king's compositions, which is hardly a reason to lose one's head.  The judges knew it, the king knew it, the spectators knew it, the prosecutors knew it, and the executioners knew it.  Third, betrayal is the currency of the court" Another crack "George Boleyn's own wife perjured herself and accused her husband of an 'unnatural' affection for his sister.  And he was by no means the only good man on that scaffold.  Fourth, there is **no** loyalty.  Courtiers are like sharks let them catch the scent of blood and they'll gladly rip you apart regardless of yesterday's promise of friendship.  Every smile hides a dagger.  Every favor has strings and **nothing** comes for free."

It hurt to watch because he was tearing Elizabeth's illusions to shreds.  I knew she daydreamed when we were young about being a princess, dreams of glittering balls and fine silks.  Dreams that no mere blacksmith would ever be able to fulfill.  For a long time that had kept me from ever speaking what was in my heart because I could, never, ever, give her that.  But it had never occurred to either of us that all those glittering stories might hide a far darker truth.

'Fifth, if you want to break a musician, threaten his fingers." And he snapped the final finger on his left hand.

"Why are you doing that?" she whispered staring at his mangled hand.

"To prove a point, milady, the body is a tool of the will.  I was taught long ago to use it as such.  I wasn't only taught how to **be** a torturer but how to endure it without breaking.  The oubliette was a mark of my sire's desperation when I proved more resilient than anticipated."  He turned from Elizabeth to Jack "You **mustn't** trust me.  I'd love to stand here and boldly swear, Captain Jack Sparrow, that I'd never betray you and I'd never use you.  But I'm a courtier, born and bred.  Eight thousand years of breeding and a life time of training.  I can't vouch that backed into the right corner that I."  He closed his eyes and swallowed "Just be wary."  The bones snapped back into place "Because long experience has taught me there isn't much I won't use or betray under the right circumstances." 

"I thought you said Mannwan taught you justice, honor, and loyalty" this time I was the one who scored a direct hit.  You could see him flinch.

"Thank you, Cennan, for illustrating my point so beautifully.  He did try.  He tried quite hard.  And then he died on a Tortugan beach by my own hand."  He had turned away and now spoke to the sea.

My God, I hadn't put the pieces together.  It seemed like so long ago that Jack had mentioned that name in passing when I'd been trying to remember to breath.

"Why?" I whispered.

When he turned back around he could have given Commodor Norrington lessons on reserved decorum.

"I must confess I am somewhat curious as to how you came by your injuries.  They don't fit well with what Wind told me of the situation."  Suddenly the Jamaican beach that was etched into my memory appeared before us.  "Now as I understand it, the French were here.  Correct?"  Jack, my father, and I nodded "And you were here.  Also correct?"  More nods.  "Then how exactly were you shot from up hill and slightly behind?"

My first thought was 'I **knew** it wasn't stupid!'  My second was to wonder who **had** shot me and **why**?

Mallory dispelled the illusion and said simply "Confess."

I had a sudden, overwhelming desire to tell every secret thing Mum never found out about.  I swallowed them back with difficulty. 

"Which one of you shot William Turner?" he asked as calmly as if he was ordering tea "Step forth and confess."

"I did" a pirate with long red-blond hair said as he stepped forward.  I didn't recognize him.  He must have joined Jack's crew after the Isla de Muerta escapade. 

"Peter?" Jack sounded thoughtful "What was in it for ye?"

Peter glared at him without answering.  He pulled a pistol and aimed it at Mallory's head.  Mallory never flinched.

"Drop it and answer the question" Mallory ordered without even raising a brow.

The pistol thudded onto the deck "Money.  What are ye doing te me?!" He screamed before starting to pull a dagger.

"Hold and throw down."  Every weapon he was hiding was scattered across the deck.

"It's called Gorchymyn.  It means 'the Command' and is the mark of the Blood of House Penthalion.  We are first and foremost tyrants and for as long as I choose you are the puppet and I am the puppet master.  Who offered you money to shoot William Turner?  And what were your orders?"

You could taste the hate burning in Peter's eyes when he stared at Mallory "An agent of the Duke of Marlborough.  I was te kill the boy first and then the father."

"And then?"  Peter trembled trying to fight but he spoke anyway.

"And then I was going te turn this bunch over te the Royal Navy and collect the bounty as a tidy profit."

Mallory turned to the crew "And now that you've heard his treachery from his own mouth what is the verdict?"

"Guilty" from every crewman in earshot.

"And the sentence?"

"Death."

Mallory picked a knife up off the deck and handed it to him "Walk to the rail, slit your throat, and enjoy your stay in Davey Jone's locker."  And while we all looked on like stunned sheep he did just that.

"So" Jack, not surprisingly, was the first to recover his wits (or maybe just his tongue) "was there a reason for that little display o power?  Not that it isn't a neat and tidy way o taking care o matters, as it were."

"Neat and tidy" Mallory had folded his arms across his chest and looked vaguely ill.  "I suppose it is.  It's also the worst kind of rape possible, an invasion not just of body but if done at its fullest measure of mind and soul as well.  I have used it only twice, once as gently as possible on Bill and tonight."

"When?" my father was on his feet in a flash.  Mallory retreated several steps "In San Juan de Ulua, how do you think you knew where to find Sparrow?  It wasn't just your own skill that allowed you to overcome your opponents so handily.  Why do you think you went to the docks and not back to the hotel as you intended?  I rode you though the town."

He pulled a pistol out of his out of his sash and pointed it at Mallory "Ye bloody aristocrat, ye used me."

"Yes, I did.  There was no way I could have reached Sparrow in time after a dienddio and he didn't have time for us to argue over it."  Mallory never flinched.

He thumbed back the trigger.  How on earth had we gone from 'I owe him too much to let him die alone' to 'I'm going to kill him myself'?  And then he looked at the scars on his hands, uncocked the gun, and tucked it back into his sash.

"Would ye have let me fire?"

"Yes" Mallory's reply was flat and unadorned.

"And if I put a bloody bullet between your eyes would it have killed ye?"

"I don't know, probably, but possibly not.  I've never let anyone shoot me in the head before."

"But ye'd have let me?"

"Yes."

"Why?" my father looked shaken by that admission.

Mallory canted his head "Because what I did to you was wrong."

I remembered as a boy thinking that Mallory drew his lines in the oddest places.  He'd lie, he'd cheat, he'd steal, he'd murder but he wouldn't, evidently, defend himself over some wrong that until tonight my father had never even realized had been done. 

"But that doesn't answer Sparrow or Cennan's questions.   There is a saying among my kind 'wide of breadth is shallow of depth' meaning that as a general rule an Ellyllon able to perform many different kinds of 'magic' will have no appreciable power with any of them.  I break this rule rather thoroughly by having both the greatest breadth ever in a House known for its great scope and I am if not the greatest ever born certainly the greatest living in several endeavors.  In contrast the current King is the weakest member of House Penthalion to survive angheuol in generations but" his arms had gone from being merely crossed to wrapped tightly around his chest.  "He has only a single talent that he wields to devastating effect.  He can't cast a curse, create a glamour, speak to Water, Wind, Earth or Fire, Time is as beyond his call as it is mine, and he is certainly no Healer.  But none of that matters because he is the Master of Gorchymyn and the greatest tyrant ever known, as it stands in Avalon not even the rivers run free.  All he has to do is command an Ellyllon or cyfae with the talent he needs. He requires no Power of his own so long as he possesses a voice."  All his attention was on Jack "With the Gorchymyn there is **no** second place.  One commands - the other obeys.  And within range of my sire's voice I am utterly lost.   I would drink down death like water before I ever willingly become again a tool in my sire's arsenal but if by some mischance I am taken alive His first act will be to turn me on you.  **That** is why I built the power to resist me into the Pearl and **that **is the greatest reason why you must never trust me.  The King of Avalon was riding Mannwan that night in Tortuga.  I nearly lost that fight trying to break His hold.  I'm no edlych at Gorchymyn myself, in all the world only two can command me, but even with an ocean between He and Mannwan I could not win"  there were no tears in his eyes but his voice was full of them "Please forgive that I failed you" he whispered to the wind.

"Mannwan didn't seem te think ye failed" Jack commented as he wrapped Mallory's unresisting fingers around a bottle of rum.

Mallory tried to pass it back "I wouldn't dream of depriving you, Sparrow."

Jack shoved it back "There's a time and a place for a good drunk and you are definitely at the opportune moment."

"I can't get drunk on rum, Sparrow, and the bilge water tastes better but I thank you for the offer all the same."

Jack's eyes narrowed "You cheated!"

Mallory shrugged and said "Prince" in exactly the same tone that Jack had once said pirate.  He canted his head "So you did see the fight.  I'm never quite sure what you do and don't See and Hear."

"Ymwroli, tywysogion am ein gobaith?" Jack asked.  He sighed when Mallory didn't translate "I've been wondering for thirteen years."

"Be of good courage, Prince of our Hope" Mallory was looking back out over the sea again. "I am the only being to ever escape the clutches of the current King that has made me quite the hero in Avalon.  The glorious Prince who will set all the wrongs right" another bitter laugh slipped out.  "Apparently I'm to slip past the Atalfa, single handedly breach the Citadel, overcome the guards, slay the King without getting caught in a Gorchymyn, restore freedom and justice, rule with grace and benefice to all, reunite the Ellyllon with the cyfea, and avoid getting slaughtered in the process.  I was **never** thatgood, the Christian **God** isn't that good." 

Defeated, he sounded utterly defeated as he leaned over the rail facing the sea with his back to us all.  The Sea reached out but he jerked back and snapped something in what I assumed was El'lan.  The Sea slapped him.

His tone was instantly contrite and he gave her another of his sweeping bows.  Playing court, I suddenly realized as I watched him speak to the Sea.  He played court to Elizabeth, not with the kind of deep sincerity he was currently lavishing on the Sea, but still the same, if of a lesser degree.

He sighed, sounding like a man burdened with the world, and turned back to face us.  "I would have gladly given an arm to have Mannwan at my side and called him cheaply bought but it was a choice between returning to Avalon in chains or killing him. Your translation, Sparrow, would be 'Peace, little promised one.  Be of good courage, Prince of our Hope.  Stand strong and true.  You have been my Prince and my friend. I thank you for granting me the freedom of death for I could not have bourn the shame.  It was my pleasure to train you. My honor rests with you.  Farewell."    He closed his eyes "Maddewch I mi canys mi cael methu."

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably before speaking "If you can't break his" she stumbled over the unfamiliar word "Gorchymyn then why the oubliette?"

"I can't countermand a direct order but as milady learned with Barbossa every bargain has loop-holes as does every Gorchymyn.  I am no edlych.  If I had received the same orders Peter did I would have found enough leeway to kill my tormentor and take the ship.  For over a year I was clever enough that he actually didn't even **know** he **had** dominance and for nearly another I twisted every command on its head.  And then I paid the price for my defiance.   Given the seething resentment against Him in Avalon He could hardly afford to allow the least hint that He could be defied to leak out.  Relatively speaking the oubliette really wasn't all that bad."  He shivered a little "There are worse things."

His head snapped up as Elizabeth made a move towards him.

"I do not require your pity, human."  My God, the **pride** in those eyes, unbending, unyielding how dare you feel sorry for me pride. "I would think I've already established that I was no innocent victim.  I may not have walked into Avalon with the intention of putting a dagger in His heart but if I survive to do so he will be the **sixth** King I've killed.  My sire has good cause to fear me.  Had I been raised in Avalon I would have been barely out of the nursery – instead I was the most accomplished killer in the land.  No Ellyllon alive but I has even seen a battle and I've fought in more than you've lived years.  In a land that hasn't been touched by war in over two thousand years I would be the sole experience general or admiral.  I have the full backing of Sea, Wind, and Fire and before my Earth mastery was lacerated I at least had its grudging consent if not overwhelming approval.  I was and **remain** a force to be reckoned with."

Elizabeth frowned "You weren't going to kill him?"

"In 1603?" he shook his head. 

1603, 1603 – why did that number bother me so?

"Because a dead elf wanted me to?  For all I knew, milady, my sire had good cause to kill his father.  I hadn't been in Avalon since my angheuol and no one saw fit to inform me of the realities of the situation I strolled rather blithely into.  Oh, I was far too experienced not to know just how much trouble I was in but by then I was inside the Citadel and it was far too late."

"While I wouldn't want te give him any suggestions but why didn't he just kill ye and have done with?" Jack asked.

"Because I'm too useful to discard" those arms went even tighter "If, if he could ensure my complete obedience I'm worth any score of others.  I would secure Him on the throne in a manner that would make even the contemplation of a revolt ludicrous.  And I'm everything He isn't, everything He thinks He should have been.  I've seen a great deal of hate, envy, and greed in my life but none of it rivals what's in my sire's eyes when He looks at me.  He'll never stop until either I'm broken or one of us is dead."

I tuned out the conversation, fascinating as it was (I'm sure Elizabeth will fill me in later) because 1603 just kept nagging at me.  It's Feb 12th, 1710.  According to Jack over 13 years since he lost the Pearl and he and Mallory were together over 13 years.  That means Jack and Mallory met in 1683 which I think matches what Elizabeth said earlier about Captain Morgan.  If he went to Avalon in 1603 and met Jack in 1683 **THAT'S ONLY EIGHTY YEARS!**  77 years in the oubliette and it was at least 1605 before he went in.  Jack was, by his own estimate **seven** in 1683.  There wasn't time for…Mallory **isn't** Jack's father.  He **can't** be.  I scoured my memory of Gibb's words.  Mallory had cut Bledri off cold every time he tried to get the earthy details about Jack.  We'd assumed that was because Mallory was protecting his lady's honor.  What if the truth was he just didn't know them? He'd said earlier that he deceived and manipulated Bledri perhaps not just about his death but also his reasons for it? He called Jack **kin** not son, not ever son.  Because he wasn't.  So who was?  I wanted that journal.  I wanted it badly, but how to get it? I was yanked out of my thoughts by Jack's raised voice.

"And get off my bloody ship" he snapped at Mallory.

"As you like, Captain Sparrow" for having just been thrown out Mallory looked damned pleased.  I gave my father a 'do something' glance but he was still blinking in shock.  Speaking of shock how the hell had an argument reached this point so quickly?  Before I could say anything he streaked upward only to be met at the crow's nest by a flash of blinding light that tossed him back onto the deck with bone crushing force.  The last thing I saw before my own vision faded was Jack whirling in surprise…

(Yes – I am evil :).

**Historical note:  **Laurens Baldran/De Griffe/De Graffe was indeed a force to be reckoned with from the late 1670's to the late 1690's.  He was courted by every major European power in the Caribbean because of the sway he held among the Brethren of the Coast.  He was also one of the few pirates that regularly traveled with a squadron of 3-7 sub-captains on their own vessels.  A true pirate Commodor if you like.   Contemporary English, Dutch, and French documents never give a description of De Griffe and 20 yrs after his death he is suddenly after yrs of silence on the matter a blue eyed blond.  The Spanish on the other hand categorically state that he was a mulatto of Dutch/African extraction.  He was captured and enslaved by the Spanish as a young man and married a woman on the plantation.  He was later separated from this wife and resold as a galley slave.  He escaped and joined the Brethren of the Coast.  Modern historians debate his actual race because of the confusing descriptions but first, the Spanish consistently call him a slave, not indentured servant, second the word 'griffe' was a slang term for mulatto. Why proudly let people call you what amounts to a racial slur if it isn't true?  Third after his death unlike Morgan and Kidd his importance is downplayed why if he was just another pirate?  One of the British and French plantation owners greatest fears was a slave uprising.  A mulatto who became rich, successful, and famous would certainly be an inspiration to other slaves to try and follow in his footsteps hence a 'white washing' would make sense.  How much of the story of his gusty Breton wife is true and how much isn't I don't know but it's straight out of pirate legend w/o any embellishment.  They had at least two daughters.  When I stumbled across him while doing my research for this story I was wondering what to do (if anything) with Anna-Maria.  As soon as I saw his wife's name – Marie-Anne I knew. 

Sadly Rathlin really did happen :(  It is unknown if Drake went ashore or not but he definitely provided the transportation.  I doubt Walter Devereux was double dealing but I needed an excuse for Mallory to take his place.  Drake was known in later life for his fearless courage but did in fact ditch his kinsman Hawkins right in the middle of a fight at San Jaun de Ulua in 1567 and another ally in 1572 to save his own hide.


	7. The Bonny Swan

**Author's note: THANK YOU DragonHunter200!!** I wasn't quite sure how chapter 6 was going to go over I was **very** glad to see someone liked it.  As to Jack and the Wind stay tuned (but don't expect an answer for a few more chapters).  Best of luck with the Spanish final!!  School first then fanfic.  My God!! Did I just **say** that!? Ack! I've joined **THEM** – the, the, _grown-ups_.  Sigh – I suppose it was inevitable…

**Sirhcvuli** – I am sorry you find the length of the chapters to be an issue.  For me chapter length is driven by the story.  Before ever setting pen to paper I outline the whole beast and then break it into chunks based on natural breaks in the story.  Each chapter needs to hit a series of plot points and reach the predetermined end point.  If that takes 3 pages it will be a 3 page chapter. (And I think there might even be one of those late in the story.) I do try to keep things under 15000 words / 20 printed pages because I know internet connections and computer time can get prohibitive on long chapters. Actually chapters 2, 3, and especially 5 (which lost over 4 full single spaced pages) were pruned from their original drafts because they were all well above that. (I'm just crossing my fingers I didn't cut anything that I shouldn't have.)  I do also, more rarely, cut chapters in places I never originally intended too.  In my preliminary outline back in January Chapters 5-9 were originally slotted for a single chapter titled Opportune Moment.  When I did my second pass at the outline in February after some research I decided that it needed **much** more space hence Opportune Moment became Mr. Blake?, Villain and Hero, The Bonny Swan, The Mystery of Mr. Cotton, and Opportune Moment.  In summary, I think we're stuck with long chapters but I am going back over my outline and considering some more breaks in the longer ones.

The Bonny Swan song is a modification of Loreena McKennits song from the The Mask and the Mirror

**Blood of Avalon**

**Chapter 7:  The Bonny Swan**

                There was no gap between sleeping and waking.  I was simply aware of Elizabeth holding me and a different hand wrapped around my wrist.

"You stopped breathing" she whispered as she rocked me gently.  "I though you said he'd be fine if you left" she snapped at Mallory as he released my wrist and sat back slowly.  He didn't even spare her a glance as he popped his right shoulder back into place.  There were an assortment of snaps and cracks as he used his left arm to straighten the breaks in the right. 

When he was done he glanced up "I'll grant I **might** have deserved that but you nearly killed young Turner with that stunt."

The hair on my arms stood up.

"Pearl gives you her profound apologies and begs your forgiveness, she meant **you** no harm." Mallory said quietly.

"Tell her" I felt rather silly addressing a boat "she's forgiven."

"There is no need for me to relay the message.  Pearl hears everything that happens within the area encompassed by her rigging."  He set his head on his knee.

"What was that?"

"I said earlier I can't come aboard the Pearl without permission" he swallowed "The reverse also holds true.  Pearl is refusing to let me leave."  He was decidedly glassy eyed and blinking too rapidly when he looked in Jack's direction "If you would be so kind as to order her to do so I would be greatly obliged."

"With pleasure" Jack began only wince.

 Mallory looked very much like he wanted to cover his ears but settled for muttering "If I do by some mischance live to be a thousand I will, never, ever understand women."  He blinked at Elizabeth "Perhaps, milady, you would have mercy upon a much befuddled prince and explain how in the course of a few brief hours I can go from" he waved at the diverse items still spread across the deck "a persona non grata to her having, having"

God, but he was fish-eye dazed.

"Hysterics is the word yer looking for" Jack supplied helpfully.

"Thank you" Mallory said "hysterics over the thought of me leaving."

My father and I shared a glance – we had an ally.  Pearl might not be happy with the fact that Mallory had left her to Barbossa but she obviously didn't want him dead either and was willing to act.

"Please, please stop crying" Mallory mumbled "please. All right, I'll stay for a little while if Sparrow agrees, just stop crying. Please stop crying."  As he slumped back against the rail a sheet of light rose like a wall.  "I promised to stay."  He sounded affronted and the light vanished.  That edgy nastiness from earlier was gone, utterly.  I remembered that flash of triumph when Jack had ordered him off the Pearl.  I glanced up at Jack and could see the same realization in his eyes – picking fights, Mallory had been picking fights.  Why had he wanted to be **ordered** off the Pearl?

Mallory sighed "Just like a woman."

Elizabeth arched a brow "O really?"

"From scurvy knave to servant in thirty seconds or less" he replied to Elizabeth and then glanced to Pearl.  "Lass, that would take the better part of a fortnight" he protested weakly.

"We just careened you" Jack objected in nearly the same breath.  "I **do** take good care of you"  there was a jealous glint in Jack's eyes when he glanced at Mallory who'd curled up against the rail with his head back on his knee.  It was replaced by worry "Are you certain yer alright mate?"

Mallory straightened "I'm fine" but there was a weariness in that voice that belied his words. 

"Are ye utterly positive about that?"

Mallory rose gracefully to his feet "In all honesty, Sparrow, I'm in better shape in both body and enaid than the day we met."  That same pride from earlier was flashing in his defiant green eyes.  I was also beginning to think that if you flayed him alive he'd look you in the eye and say the same.  On the other hand it might be true.  He couldn't have been out of the oubliette for more than a few months before he met Jack.

"It's just not one of my better nights" he folded himself back onto the deck.  At least the 'I was just smacked in the face with an oar look' had faded "There is no need for concern."

Jack just nodded before trying, unsuccessfully, to pass him the rum again.

"Why are you always trying to get me drunk?" he canted his head and looked at Jack expectantly.

"It loosens everyone else's lips, figured maybe just once ye'd start bloody talking."

"As I recall I spoke a great deal."

"Aye ye did, about shipbuilding, and sailing, and swordplay, and history, and languages, and strategy, and science, and a host o other things and except for that little jaunt te Isla de Meurta not three bloody words about yerself.  I've learned more about the man, the **elf**, that raised me today than I learned in thirteen years" the tone was still smooth Jack Sparrow but there was a flash of anger and pain in his dark eyes.

"That's actually an insult you know" Mallory returned dully.

Jack frowned "What?"

"Elf, it's like calling a Frenchman a Frog" he had gone from aggressively edgy to nearly lethargic.  How hard had Pearl hit him?

"Yer pardon" Jack shot back with just a touch of sarcasm "The **Ellyllon** **prince** that raised me."

"And now you know I'm a remorseless, murdering, cheating, lying, inhuman, heir to a kingdom."

Not remorseless, I had no idea how to judge the rest but he was anything but remorseless.

 Jack set the rum in front of Mallory with a solid thump.  "Ye said this was a night for remembrance?  Well, how can ye do that properly without lifting a glass te the dearly departed? Savvy?"

Mallory gave the bottle of rum a disgusted look "I wouldn't insult them with that rot-gut you imbibe with such gusto."

"Most excellent well" Jack replied with undaunted aplomb "I'll get te keep me rum and I'll get te unload some o that" he paused and cleared his throat "Wonderful produce of Bacchus's divine nature, a vintage truly fit for a royal guest."  He finished with a sweeping Malloryesque bow.  It was a perfect imitation but with just a touch of Jack Sparrow and while undoubtedly amusing it got far too hearty a response.  It did crack the tense atmosphere though.  Mallory's own reply was spot on Jack Sparrow right down to the trademark sway and further diffused the situation.  I breathed a sigh of relief that he'd perked back up a bit.

"It is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep of that proliferous bouquet of a wake aboard the Black Pearl."

Jack's eyes lit with delight and then faded with shadow "It would have been William's turn te owe me a bottle of rum."

"Then we will drink one to Captain Kidd."

"You **knew** Captain Kidd" Elizabeth's eyes were big as saucers.  I rolled my own.

"A good man" was Mallory's quiet response.

"And a good pirate?" she asked archly.

"Not a pirate, Lizzy" Jack retorted angrily "Not William, not ever.  They hung him for Culliford's crimes and then let that bastard walk."

"He didn't walk far" there was no question that Culliford was dead and who was responsible.  And Mallory was anything but remorseful in this instance. 

Jack rolled the bottle of rum in his hands "I should have paid me respects te Sarah but" he shrugged.

"That reminds me" Mallory fished around in a pocket or purse we clearly couldn't see and tossed something to Jack who glanced down and palmed it.  I frowned at the little pile of sand the action had left on the black planks. "I gave your regrets to Sarah when I delivered the last of William's hidden gold.  She sends her fond regards and if you can ever bring yourself to briefly loose the trinkets" Jack glared at the very notion "and impersonate an honest merchant she would be delighted to be your hostess."

"I heard she was remarried with more little ones."

"She is" Mallory allowed.   Jack sighed and raised the bottle "Te Captain William Kidd the finest innocent man te ever swing for piracy."  He took a generous swallow and passed it to Mallory who looked at it like he'd just been handed poison but took a hefty gulp anyway and passed it back.

"Dragon's breath, Sparrow, how do you drink that foul brew?"

Jack gave the bottle pat "Don't fret, luv.  I wouldn't dream o sharing anymore o ye with the likes o him."  He flicked his attention back to Mallory "Ye stay put and I'll find something below that that princely palate o yers can stomach."

My father rose "I'll give ye a hand."

"No, ye stay with yer son" there was a flash of disappointment in Jack's dark eyes.  I realized suddenly that neither Jack nor Elizabeth had stumbled onto the truth.  I was torn.  On one hand it felt very good (for perhaps the first time) to be one step ahead of them.  On the other I felt a certain sympathy for Jack.  I had wondered even **with** my mother what my father was like and where I came from.  Jack had had no one.  Maybe that was why he'd been so eager to help me look for my own father.  What must it be like to know **nothing** all your life only to be told that the answer had been looking you in the face for thirteen years without ever saying a word?  Small wonder it had been easy for Mallory to pick a fight with Jack.  For all his apparent calm Jack's thoughts and emotions had to be in an absolute roil.  Particularly with the added insult that Mallory had gone out of his way to take Anna-Maria home, that he had made such a point of the importance of family.  The sight of my father and I finally reunited couldn't possibly help either.  What a mess.  I also know Captain Jack Sparrow well enough to know that he hadn't given up and as I watched him stagger away I wondered what his plan was.  I hoped for his sake that he wasn't too disappointed when he discovered that Mallory wasn't, in point of fact, his father. 

My father's voice pulled me out of my thoughts "I never actually thanked you for what you did for my son."

"I'm just pleased that you **finally** chose to talk to Cennan" you could see in both their eyes that there was a message for my father alone in those words.

He flushed nearly purple "Is that yer way o saying 'I told ye so'?"

Mallory shrugged still far too quiet for my own liking, "It was my pleasure both to train Cennan and to heal him.  You have been blessed with a fine son, Bill."

Was there a trace of longing in that voice?  It was my turn to flush and squirm under that praise "What **does **Cennan mean?"

For just an instant the ghost of the merry young 'journeyman blacksmith' that had trained me hovered about him "It's El'lan for whelp."

"You can't be serious."

"Would I lie to you?"  This was far closer to the man I'd known, slightly mocking and nearly gentle, though without the laughter in his eyes that I remembered so well.  I was surprised that he'd yielded so easily.  He'd never struck me as the type that gave up.  Or perhaps he was just waiting for the 'opportune moment' and gulling both us and the Pearl.  He canted his head at me expectantly but Anna-Maria saved me from having to answer.

"Are you certain that there's nothing you can do for Mama?"

"When I did the first surgery in 1705 I truly thought I'd gotten it all but when I visited for Christmas in 1708 it was back and spreading rapidly.  I preformed a second surgery then but I know from long experience that it is a largely futile gesture.  It's only a matter of time."  He was staring rather intently at his booted toes.

"How much time?"  Anna-Maria demanded.

Mallory shrugged without looking up "Not long, a month at the absolute most, probably far less."  He met Anna-Maria's eyes "To be brutally honest I was surprised when the Wind told me she was still alive."  He held her eyes "She's a fighter and she's wants to say goodbye.  Please forgive her if she's testy, by this time she'll be in quite a bit of pain."  Anna-Maria gathered herself to say something but Mallory cut her off, "If you don't mind could we possibly skip the part were you threaten me with physical violence?  Things that don't exist in your darkest nightmares have already been tried and failed.  Nothing short of Gorchymyn has ever succeeded in forcing me to act.  All you will accomplish is ending up with a broken arm.  Truth told I'd rather not if it's all the same to you."  His eyes were all but boring holes in her "Let me repeat this very slowly I. CAN'T. SAVE. HER.  Not won't, can't.  It isn't an injury or a foreign invader. Her own body has turned on her and is slowly strangling her.  The essence of what I do is to encourage the body to do what it would do naturally just at a much faster pace.  When I turn that ability on people with tumors or leukemia the disease just explodes."  He swallowed "The first time I thought it was a fluke.  After all I was never trained.  I just thought I'd done something wrong and killed the woman I was trying to save."  He was playing with an ear tip again "They speak of gorffwyll, the release of enaid when you kill as a warrior but it's a pale, immaterial shadow compared to what happens when you kill when you're healing."  At some point earlier his eyes had gone cat-slitted, now the pupils spread so wide the green became the thinnest of halos in a sea of darkness.  "First there's the brilliant flash when you flare, burning for just an instant brighter than any fire or star of the heavens.  It's indescribably beautiful in its own dreadful way and then the darkness rushes in behind it clawing and snatching."  He fell silent with those strange too dark eyes staring again.  Jack set a case of bottles beside him with a thump.  He didn't stir. 

"Here, ye look like ye could use this" still no answer "Mallory!" Jack snapped.  In a single blink his eyes were back to normal.  He glanced at the full case at his side and back to Jack with brows raised.

"I figured if yer half as old as ye say it'd take a bit.  Now, where do we start?"

"No glasses?"

"I happen te know yer highness can manage without" Jack challenged back.

Elizabeth sighed "Fine crystal and elegance."

"Dogs eating off the gold plate on the bloody table" Mallory rebutted in the same moment my father mumbled "Courtiers pissing in the corners."  They shared a wry, knowing look before Mallory wrapped his fingers around the first bottle and pulled it out with a long-suffering sigh.  He turned to Gibbs "To Captain Medwyn Grey and the crew of the Dominant."  He took a gulp and gave the bottle a confused glance "**What **is this?"

"Wine" Jack supplied helpfully.

"Made by an obviously drunk vintner" Mallory sniffed at the bottle while the Governor looked on with intense interest.  "I think the intent was a Merlot but" he took a sip and rolled it on his tongue.  Jack looked a touch nervous and the Governor's fingers were all but twitching.  My father-in-law considered himself quite the connoisseur and the thought of an unknown vintage was enough to bring him back into the conversation.

"If I may?" he piped caught somewhere between curiosity and terror but Mallory just passed him the bottle and went back to scrutinizing his boots.  I'd patiently watched the Governor tasting wine on any number of occasions but never like this.  His clothes were rumpled, his wig slightly askew, he was on a pirate ship in the middle of the Caribbean and he was still trying to sample wine as if he was back in his mansion.  The Noman I'd known would have been at the very least highly amused.  Mallory didn't even raise his head.  Since the Governor didn't have a glass to pour it into he was trying in vain to gage the color through the dark bottle finally he muttered "Are you certain you haven't a glass?  Or a bottle of a lighter color?"

"Nope" Jack flung his hands out "Not a one.  Anna-Maria has a terrible temper you know.  Smashed them all, glass everywhere." 

The lady in question was looking at Jack like he'd lost his mind.  Jack glanced at Mallory who was still apparently fascinated with his footwear and made a shushing motion.   The Governor watched the by play, finally gave up on a proper tasting, and just took a sip.  His brows shot up immediately and he winked conspiratorially at Jack.  They both started as Mallory's head shot up but he ignored them while listening intently.  Noman **never** would have missed any of this no matter how distracted he appeared to be. 

"Did you hear something?" Mallory asked Jack who shook his head.  "I suppose it was just Wind" but he sounded unsure.

The Governor returned the bottle "It's a truly unique vintage from quite renowned family."

"I bow to your greater expertise" Mallory replied distractedly still listening for whatever had caught his interest.

Elizabeth started to grab a bottle from one of the other casks several crewmen had brought up and were happily sharing, (I wondered uneasily if I was going to be called upon to rescue Elizabeth's virtue at some point tonight from a drunken crewman.) but Mallory stopped her. 

"That isn't good for the wee lass."

Her hand flew to her stomach in consternation "Can I still propose a toast?"

"By all means, milady, I wait with baited breath for your pleasure."  It was tough to appear gallant folded up like a pretzel on the Pearl's deck with a bottle of whatever in hand but Mallory managed.

"To Queen Elizabeth" Elizabeth had always been very proud of the Queen with whom she shared a name.

"To Elizabeth Regina Glorianna.  May your God save you Bess."  Mallory took at least six long swallows, eyes closed.  Jack was all but beaming.  I wondered just what the Merlot was spiked with, absinth, maybe?  We knew for a fact that Ellyllon could get drunk on it and it would explain Jack's insistence on dark bottles to hide the discoloration.   Did we really want a drunken Mallory?  I hoped Jack had thought about just what Mallory was capable of – what if he was a violent drunk? 

"What was it like, standing between England and the Armada?" she asked eagerly.  I gave Mallory a beseeching look.

He caught my eye and just sighed, "Anticlimactic."

"What?" Elizabeth looked both angry and confused at the reply.

"My dear acolyte of Sekmet, while battles are what men remember, wars are more often won long before the first shot is fired.  I holed the Armada under the water line in 1685 at Isla de Meurta when I stole the Cortez treasure."  He raised the bottle again "To the men of the Cortez treasure fleet who died for nothing."  He took another swig.

"I thought you said that the taking of the Cortez fleet was important to the defeat of the Armada."

"I did.  It was critical.  If I had failed to secure that bullion history would have been very different and it is quite likely the Armada would have landed if not prevailed."

"Then how can you say they died for nothing?" Elizabeth snapped.

"Does it matter?  Did any of it ever really matter?" he asked quietly "If I hadn't been sent to live among you Bess would have died in 1554 but someone else would have ruled England.  If I hadn't gotten involved in the Netherlands they would still be in the hands of Spain and the Inquisition would have expunged every trace of Protestantism but I rather doubt the loss of life would have been as great as it was in the revolt I precipitated.   If I hadn't intervened in France the House of Valois would still be on the throne and there never would have been an Edict of Nantes but Louis revoked it and the Huegnots are dying again anyway.  I broke the power of the Spanish Hapsburgs but would it have been so horrid if they had ended up ruling Europe? Venice is still a republic but for how much longer?  It's all just dust and ash on the Wind, none of it matters.  None of it matters any more than what Myrddin and Artorius died for a thousand years ago.  History goes on, milady, we're just the transitory details."

"It did matter" she insisted "they died so England could go on."

"England would have gone on regardless of Spanish domination.  You would worship in a different church but you'd say your prayers to the same God.  You might speak a different language, or you might not.  Just dust and ash."

She folded herself up across from him next to Jack "Did you think it mattered then?"

"Yes" he canted his head at her "Ask me on a different night and you're likely to get a different answer.  But tonight is dedicated to the dead, tonight I count the cost of it all, and it's damnably high." 

He froze for a moment and then looked at Jack "Are you certain you didn't hear something?"

Jack shook his head.

"Odd" he muttered and then addressed Elizabeth.  "It's an easy thing, milady, to sit in a council chamber and plan a coup, or an assassination, or a war.   It's quite another to stand on a blood soaked field and tally the butcher's bill particularly when the blood you've slipped calls to you.  The truth is the Armada was doomed before it ever set sail.  The bullion from the 1585 raid was used to finance the construction of a fleet built by Hawkins and roughly based on my designs.  That was the first step toward defeating the Armada, then in 1587 I raided Cadiz and burned the barrel staves, in that moment I destroyed the Armada."

"Barrel staves?" she was incredulous "You defeated the Spanish Armada by burning barrel staves?"

"A fleet can't sail without provisions, provisions can't be stowed without barrels, provisions stored in **green** barrels can be deadly.  I knew that ninny Philip would never understand and delay the fleet by another year because the barrels weren't ready.  The men were already starting to die before they ever reached England even if they had managed to defeat us in the Channel, unlikely, with the fleet Hawkins and I had built, there wouldn't have been enough well sailors to augment Sandro's army.  Any fool could have kept them off the coast with those ships.  The fight in the Channel was superfluous, nothing but a show piece for the masses.  The plan, **my** bloody plan, was to keep them from joining Sandro's army and then to keep them from making landfall until they all died.  It was brilliant in a horrid way.  I made sure we had more and better guns.  If all went according to plan England wouldn't lose a single ship."  He went back to playing with an ear.

"But some of them made it back."

"I know.   As I said it's one thing to sit in the Queen's Privy Chamber and plan.  It's another to actually stalk a fleet full of dying men and pick off the stragglers as they try desperately to make land fall.  To listen to them as they weep in their desperation for their God to save them and their mothers to comfort them and know that there's no one to save them." He flushed and ducked his head looking almost ashamed "When we rounded Ireland I couldn't listen to it any more.  I anchored the Revenge with Granuaile in Clew Bay and took what was left home.  Not that that stopped the dying, rotten provisions are rotten provisions and there wasn't much I could do about that until we got back to Spain."  He was staring at the decking again "Bess was furious with me but **she **was never the one doing the killing.  It's easy to judge when you're not the one who has to listen to the screams.  I never sailed for Bess again after that." He glanced back up at Elizabeth "Do yourself a favor, lass, stop asking.  None of it's pretty, none of it's glorious, and all of it was pointless."

Jack clinked his rum against Mallory's darker bottle "To the dead of the Spanish Armada, then."

Mallory nodded and drained his own bottle in a single long pull and uncorked a second without prompting "To the other casualty of the Cortez Fleet.  To James Norrington, the best First Lieutenant I ever had and to his father the White Rose."  He drank deep "I'd rather spend another month in the hands of the Spanish Inquisition than face another friend over the body of his son.  I'm sorry Henry, so damn sorry about that.  I knew better.  I should have seen what was coming."

"James Norrington?" Elizabeth echoed in surprise.

"Well, they aren't really Norringtons but I'm the only one left who remembers who they were.  Just like I'm the only one who remembers why the second son is always named James and sent to the Navy.  For Zander it's tradition, for me it's tragedy.  Bloody 'Norringtons' - all stiff dignity and then they do something stupid, like blowing their brains out in the Ward Room in a fit of guilt."  He glanced at my father "Or trying to break unjustly accused stable hands out of prison in the dead of night, amateur idiot."  He frowned and glanced around the deck intently. 

"Or get themselves shot trying to save you" Elizabeth returned sharply.  I felt my own latent jealousy against the Commador flare.  He could have given her so much more than I particularly since he'd inherited his brother's estate two years ago.  I suddenly realized that the brother Commador Norrington had lost just before our wedding was the same Sir Rhys Norrington that had saved my father all those years ago.  What a tangled web we were!  I also was beginning to wonder if anyone was really what they appeared to be.  I was a Blake, Noman was an Ellyllon, now James Norrington wasn't really a Norrington either.

"I did **not** need saving, milady" more cool, haughty pride "with the exception of Zander's noble gesture the situation was well in hand."

"He didn't know that.  He risked his life and his career for you."  She snapped back "He's a fine man, a good man, he risked a great deal giving Jack that head start."

Mallory raised a brow at her fierce tone "I never claimed he wasn't though I must confess" his eyes hardened ominously "I am less than best pleased with his treatment of Captain Sparrow and if we meet again." His head snapped to the left and he half rose before settling back on the deck uneasily.  I was beginning to become nervous myself – was he legitimately hearing something the rest of us couldn't – or was the absinthe causing hallucinations?  He brushed against the walking stick/bow and sent it rolling.  My father picked it up and tried, unsuccessfully, to put it together. 

"It's like this" and with a quick flip of the wrist the bow was ready to be strung.

"That is a very good trick" Jack commented (and I had to agree) "Why didn't ye ever show it to me?"

"Because when I suggested that you might want to learn a bit of archery you told me 'I'm going te be a bloody pirate captain on the bleeding sea not a bloody Indian chief"." The back half of the statement was another perfect imitation of Jack who rolled his eyes. 

"Somehow I don't think ye acquired that from wild Indians" was Jack's reply.

He returned the bow to a walking stick and traced the design with a finger "No, it was a gift from the best pirate captain I ever knew."

"The best?" Jack looked a touch disappointed "Have I ever heard of him?"

"You might have heard of **her** or you might not" Mallory replied staring at the pattern.  Elizabeth and Anna-Maria's eyes both lit at that her.  For that matter so did Jack's and I had the sinking feeling that he was hoping that he was going to hear about his own mother.  Gibbs shuddered in absolute horror.

"Who was she?" Anna-Maria asked.

Oh, I am Granuaile Ui Mhaille!

Beware me in Clew Bay.

From the wild coast of Mayo

I have come good Queen Bess

Under truce as a guest

To ask by what right

You force my brethren to roam

Far from their father's father's home?

Oh, I am Granuaile Ui Mhaille!

And I'll sail my caravels

To the very gates of Hell!

He let the song trail off as he went back to tracing the pattern but it was with a fond, nostalgic half-smile.  It was by far and away the happiest he'd looked since sunset.

"Clew Bay? Mayo, Ireland?  You mean Grace O'Malley, the Irish She King."  Oh, but Jack was pleased with **that** "The piratess that stirred up rebellion for years?"

"Granuaile Ui Mhaille!" Mallory retorted fiercely "**Ediarfol Alarches**." He graced her with a sardonic smile "She wasn't English – she **isn't **Grace O' Malley she **is** Granuaile Ui Mhaille.  You aren't Ellyllon you're Elizabeth nee Swann not Ediarfol Alarches."

And I was glad of that – I didn't even want to attempt to pronounce that on a regular basis.  No wonder Jack had refused to learn El'lan.

"Was she really bald?"

That actually got a flash of a real grin "Only for a little while.  Though she was bald as a queue ball the day I met her.  Her mother told her girls couldn't go to sea because their long hair blew into the sailors' face so she shaved her head and snuck aboard her father's ship.  They didn't catch her until she got wounded on their second engagement."  His eyes were glowing "She had salt water in her veins, a will like steel wire, and nerves of ice."  Odds were she wasn't Jack's mother but there was more than just respect in those green eyes.  He'd been infatuated with her at the very least. He raised his bottle "To a woman who lived hard, navigated her own course, and died well. Wind to your sails Gran, wind to your sails."   

Elizabeth nodded to what I realized wasn't a decorative pattern but an odd flowing script up the bow staves.  "Is that a spell?"

"No, one side is an old Irish blessing, the other is a rather pointed reminder to stick to what I'm good at."  Again that almost smile, sad and nostalgic but I got the distinct impression that in Mallory's consideration Granuaile had had a good life and a good death.  "Being the very young fool that I was I thought since I could shoot a bow well I could shoot a gun equally well in spite of the fact I'd never fired one before.  All I can say is at least I didn't kill anyone on my side.  I never was very good with distance weapons."

My father rubbed his neck "I seem te recall at least one very good shot."

"You have no idea how many **months** of practice I had to put in with both bow and pistol to reach any level of proficiency with either.  And I am still a far better archer."

"And I suppose ye learned it from a pack of wild Indians that made ye their chief?" Gibbs suggested.

Mallory looked at him oddly "No, I learned at Hatfield.  Roger Aschem who was in charge of Bess and Ned's education was also an avid archer.  Of course the only reason **I** bothered was because Bess took to the bow almost as naturally as Bill did to the gun and I'd be damned before I let Bess get the upper hand on me at anything."  He surged to his feet so rapidly that I couldn't even follow the movement with my eyes.  "That isn't my imagination and it isn't the Wind."  He muttered a curse.  "Lost it again, it comes and fades so quickly."

"What does?" Jack asked as we watched Mallory quarter the deck like a hound trying to pick up a scent.

"At first I thought it was just something on the Wind, but it isn't.   Something aboard this ship weeps.  But it's muffled and it fades in and out."  His own voice trailed off as his gaze locked on a knot of crewman on the far end of the deck.  Jack rose (swaying as always) and joined him.

"Sambo, Hobb, what are ye scabberous dogs about?"

"Divvyin' up Peter's loot since he doesn't need it no more."

"What's under that great coat?" Mallory demanded.

All of the men shifted uneasily and several made the sign against evil "It's a white stone box."

Mallory shivered himself "How much for the box?"

"Take it" the little man insisted "None of us want **that** thing."

One of the crewmen whose name I'd never learned back during the Isla de Meurta adventure shoved the think toward us.  Mallory just stood frozen as a two by two by two foot alabaster box was revealed.  Then he moved, nearly blurring as he descended with the speed of a diving falcon onto it.

"Mifywclywedchwi.Mifygalludyfolod.Mifyboddcaffealchwioddi.Gwir."

I wondered if that rapid slur of words was a spell or just an attempt to reassure whatever or whoever was in the box.  My God, someone was **in** that thing!  So small.  I felt another wave of the pity that Mallory clearly wouldn't tolerate.  Seventy-seven years.  His first attempt was met with a crackle of lightening that left his fingers twitching but he paid it as much attention as duck pays to water on its back and tried again.  And was repulsed.  The counter to his third attempt was violent enough to knock him off his feet.  He shook himself and sat back on his heels, cursing under his breath as he glared murderously at the alabaster.  He put a hand on top of the box

"Gafael am.  Mify clywed chwi.  Gafael am."

He laid his ear to its smooth surface.

"I don't think she can hear me or else she isn't sane enough anymore to understand."

"She?" Jack asked staring at the box with the same horror all of us felt.  "It's an Ellyllon in there then?"

"No.  It can't be.  We have to breathe and this is airtight.  There are some cyfae that can survive without breathing but most of them would have escaped on their own.  Some sort lledrith, I think." He responded distractedly as he tried something else and failed again.  "Mify rhydd chwi, addo I."

"Did it happen te occur te ye" Jack began cautiously "that maybe there was a reason why she was locked away?"

"I was locked away for any number of reasons, Sparrow" he rebutted without taking his attention off the pathetically small chest.  "Besides these sigils were set by Unben Lofrudd, one of the few Ellyllon who was whole heartedly in support of the current King and I might add the same Ellyllon who sealed my own carchar.  I suspect I know what's in here.  I'm frankly at a loss as to if I should hope I'm right or pray I'm wrong."

"And that would be?" Jack prompted when Mallory appeared to dismiss us entirely in favor of concentrating on the carchar. 

"The Meddwi Alarches – the Bonny Swan."  He paused while another light show split the darkness "It's a harp and a woman, sort of."  He worried his lip, eyes narrowed.  "You might want to step back, if this doesn't work it's likely to be hazardous to anyone in range."

Jack grasped Mallory's shoulder "I take it that includes you."

Mallory sidled smoothly out from under Jack's hand "I'll be fine."

"But where's the profit it for ye?" Jack challenged.

"I swear you sound like Bess.  I've never in my life done a damned thing for **profit**.  I've got my faults but greed isn't one of them.  I don't kill people for **things**. And I'm getting her out of there, Captain Jack Sparrow, even if it kills me.  Now, **please**, step aside.  I **will **survive but I don't know if you would."

"What about Will?" Elizabeth asked rising to face him.

"He'll be fine as well, milady."

"You said that earlier" she rebutted "and he nearly died when you tried to leave."

"Pearl surprised me" he replied with easy confidence "I've made allowances this time.  Your husband will be as safe as any breathing thing ever is."

He gave both of them an icy green glare until they stepped back.  It was amazing how quickly he could go from a rambling lethargic wreck to cool competence.  He gave a whole new meaning to the word temperamental – I'll never complain about Elizabeth's mood swings again.  Maybe he wouldn't have had a problem in a fight tonight – except the hobgoblin said he'd die if he left alone.  He took several long breaths and the night exploded with sound and light.  Mallory himself and the chest were both engulfed in the blinding fury.  When we could see again Mallory was draped limply over the chest.  Jack rushed forward with my father on his heels.    Only to be met by the glowing white dagger tip as Mallory whirled and fell back heavily onto the top of the carchar.  But in spite of being barely conscience his grip on the hilt never wavered. 

"I'm fine."

"And I'm the King of England" Jack snapped back.

Mallory blinked looking even more glassy eyed than before "You'd be desperately unhappy even if" he shook his head and sheathed the dagger.  He tried to give them one of his bows and nearly landed on his bum "My profit, pronoun, professional, pro"

"Profound?" Jack offered.

"That's it – my profound apologies" he slid down the carchar into a puddle of Mallory on the Pearl's dark decking at Jack's feet.  A second little pile of white sand stood out against the black boards. 

"Damn Lofrudd, I killed him too quickly.  Never managed to break the sigils on my carchar either."

"Then how did you ever manage to escape?"

"My Oed.  You have your sacraments to mark the stages of your lives, we have our own.  Angheuol beginning at a year and a day to determine if we have the right to live, the Defod timed to coincide with puberty when we are chosen by the draig, Oed which marks the coming of age for anyone not of House Penthalion and the Taithe for House Penthalion, and the Oedran at 210 to mark the coming of age for House Penthalion." Another odd little not laugh "I actually have more experience than anyone in the Citadel but if I were to slay my sire today I would have to rule under a regency since I'm decades short of my 'majority'."  He sighed "I didn't break out of the carchar.  I was pulled out for the ceremony and given a choice between another round of my sire's idea of paternal affection and a quick exit stage left – I took the exit."  He laid his head against the stone his voice suddenly going higher and lighter "I hear you – I do.  I'll get you out, I promise.  There has to be a way. I'll find it."  He rolled easily up off the decking to face the carchar again.  "Speaking of over hasty kills I'd very much like to know how the Duke of Marlborough's little flunky got his grubby paws on this."

"He claimed a wee little man named Robin gave it to him and told him he'd die the day he parted with it" Gibbs offered "sounds like terrible bad luck."

Mallory rocked back, eyes clear "That's interesting, that's very interesting."  He drummed his fingers on the top "What was your game this time Puck?"  He was suddenly far more guarded.

"You don't trust Robin Goodfellow?" my father asked "You had him break me out of Newgate."

Mallory's eyes narrowed instantly, his hand dropped to the hilt of his dagger, and I swear his ears flattened against his head "Never.  And how do you know his name William Blake?  He never gave it to you when he released you nor when you rode him.  Wind was always watching and reporting to me."  The air crackled with a restrained power "What did The Hobgoblin ask of you?"

"That I summon you to save my son" was his instant response.

"Why?" Mallory shot back with eyes once more glowing with their own inner, malevolent light.

"He didn't say" my father lied.

"Didn't he?" Mallory hissed, not fooled for an instant "Keep your own counsel then, Bill, but know this you entered into an accord with The Hobgoblin – you shake hands with that kind and you do well to count your fingers every day for the rest of your natural life."

"You said was" my father said nervously.

"Robin Goodfellow tangled with a mardeth in 1707.  They destroyed each other.  Odd really that someone that old and wise would pick such a mismatched fight.  Never would have thought a hob had a snowball in hell's chance against a mardeth but Puck always was full of surprises."

"He did it for you" my father stated boldly.

"What?" Mallory sounded shaken.

"He told me if his Prince lived to claim his throne he'd have four less enemies and one less ally."

Mallory just dropped onto the carchar looking if anything more stunned then when he'd knocked himself unconscious.

"**HIS** Prince, you're utterly **certain** of that? Not the prince, not crown prince, not the Penthalion heir, but **HIS** Prince."

"Aye, he called ye naught but me Prince" my father replied.

Mallory just blinked and then swore long and fiercely in El'lan.

"Is there a perhaps a problem?" Jack asked in patent Jack fashion.

"No, no problem at all" Mallory rebutted sarcastically.  "As if the bloody stakes weren't already high enough trust Puck to up the ante."

"Would ye care te elaborate for the rest o us?" Jack inquired with flourish that took the little knot around the carchar.

"Puck was a hobgoblin – true cyfae to the core and until he died the oldest breathing thing alive.  Beyond that Puck had **never** acknowledged the right of the Ellyllon to rule the cyfae.  By calling me his Prince he swore me his and the other hobs allegiance, broke eight thousand years of stubborn resistance, and he died fighting a mardeth.  He was a seer and I can only think of one thing that could drive him to those extremes – a no holds barred cyfae war."  He blinked wide horrified eyes "I don't even want to consider the consequences.  It won't be confined to the Cynfyd, Dragon's breath you'd be able to swim in the blood."  He paced the deck with an easy cat-like grace.  He turned back to carchar "The question is what was Puck's real intent?  To aid me or to destroy me?"

"He said he gave you his allegiance" my father protested.

"The Churchills said that to James Stuart too, but you were there, Bill, when he tried to give Guilliam of Orange the Army.  I would hardly be the first Penthalion Puck betrayed and destroyed.  His aversion to both our existence and our policies is long-standing and well known.  So is that really the Bonny Swan or something else cleverly disguised?  Clearly he meant for it to come into my hands but is it a trap or not?  What was your game Puck?"  He sighed and crossed to the carchar. "You might have made this a bit easier" he muttered to no one. 

"Begging yer pardon" Jack began "but ye said it might, just possibly mind, be a trap."

"If it is it is well baited" he laid an ear against the smooth white stone and whispered something soothing "I can't leave her in here even if it kills me.  And I don't think it is a trap – he **died** fighting one of his erstwhile allies.  I **think** he really did give me the hobs.  I haven't a clue what to **do** with them mind you."  There was another fountain of sparks "I just wish he'd broken a few of these.  This was far more his area of expertise than mine."  He drummed his fingers on the top and worried his lip "There **has** to be a way.  Why arrange for me to come into possession of the thrice benighted thing if I can't get it open?"  He'd completely dismissed our existence while glaring at the carchar.

"What is the Bonny Swan?"

His gaze flickered to Elizabeth and he rocked back onto his heels "So busy learning history and pirate legends that you ignored your fairy tales, milady?  It's a very old but still well known tale even among your people."  He began to chant as he continued to stare at the white stone…

A king dwelt in the north country,

He had daughters one, two, three.

Two daughters walked by the river's brim.

The elder pushed the younger in.

The Swan swims so bonny o.

Oh, sister, oh, sister pray lend me your hand

And I shall give you house and land.

I'll give you neither hand nor glove

And I shall have all and your own true love.

The Swan swims so bonny o.

Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam

Until she lodged in a miller's dam.

There came an Ellyllon prince passing by

And he heard her heart's cry.

The Swan swims so bonny o.

He made harp pins of her fingers fair

He made harp strings of her flowing hair

He crafted a harp of his Blood and her bone

And straight it began to play alone.

The Swan swims so bonny o.

He brought her to her father's hall

And there was the court assembled all.

He set her down upon the stone

And straight she began to play alone.

The Swan swims so bonny o.

There doth sit my father the King

And yonder is my mother the Queen

And there doth sit my brother Hugh

And by him my beloved, sweet and true.

And there doth sit my false sister Aine

Who drowned me for greed and a man.

The Swan swims so bonny o.

"The Ellyllon prince was Taliesin, my grandfather's eldest brother, who happened to share my knack for hearing the dead.  He couldn't give her back the life had been reft from her nor could he disregard her pleases for her beloved.  You see she had been promised to a wealthier, more powerful prince in spite of being the youngest because they were in love, a perfect match personally and politically, except the elder sister believed it should have been hers.  With the birth of their first son to cement her position she intended to kill him.  The Bonny Swan begged him to save her beloved but he couldn't storm into her father's hall and accuse her sister of murder without proof.  So instead he took what remained of her body and enaid and a bit of his own life's Blood and made a harp of them.  That's why I can hear her and Sparrow can't.  He doesn't hear the dead but I do." He tried something else and failed again.  "The sister met her just fate but the Bonny Swan was no longer the girl she had once been.  Her beloved was wed to the surviving sister."

Elizabeth made a small sound of protest.

"I never claimed it was a happy tale, just an old one, but not without its brighter moments.  The harp and the young prince had become quite infatuated with each other and they remained together until his mysterious death some decades later.  His younger brother in spite of being just past his own defod slipped out of Avalon intent on discovering his brother's fate.  All he ever found was the damaged harp which he repaired with his own Blood and played for some years until his own equally enigmatic death.  Shortly before that though, he gave the harp to his father, Weldig, when he brought his son Artorius to Avalon and laid him in his own tomb.  Weldig gave the harp a place of honor in the Citadel and it is said that he would lock himself away with it for days at a time hearing in her the last echoes of his beloved elder sons, Myrddin and Taliesin, who like every other Dichlyn a Nimrais were lost mysteriously and alone during their Taithes.  The harp remained one of my grandsire's most cherished possessions as his last link to the brothers he barely knew.  It is said among the ageless cyfae that Taliesin was the greatest musician ever born and that to hear the Bonny Swan is to hear that greatness preserved.  When the harp was stolen all of Avalon joined the search.  But nothing was ever found and for over two and a half centuries the fate of the Bonny Swan has been a question unanswered.  I would say given that this was sealed by one of my sire's flunkies that she saw or heard something He didn't want known and was interred to ensure her silence."  He frowned "I think perhaps it's time to try the library method" he said and pulled his dagger.

"What kind of library requires daggers?" Jack asked with a golden grin.

"As I used to try to drum into your head Sparrow, knowledge is power.  My sire had the Citadel's library sealed against me by Lofrudd.  He piled sigil on sigil against magic on the lock and the keys but he never warded it against just being picked.  I spent over a year breaking into the library every night while the two of them were blithely content that nothing could breach their defenses."

"In case it had escaped your attention, there's no lock."

"It hadn't.  What I meant was for all of the lavish magical guards there may very well be nothing to stop me from physically prying it open.  Sorry" he apologized to his dagger as he wedged it the crack and pulled it right back out.  It dangled rather absurdly from his forefinger.  It looked for all the world like the red dragon on the hilt was chewing on his finger.  It wasn't until the blood started dripping onto the deck that I accepted the evidence of my eyes – it **was** chewing on his finger.  He wrapped his other hand around the dragon and forced its jaws apart.  It tried to twist out of his grip but he held it with a practiced ease.  It shot a resentful flare of fire at him about which he appeared completely   indifferent as he deftly muzzled it.  The white dragon immediately took advantage of his counterpart's inconvenience to attack him.

"Sefyll" Mallory barked with an authority the like of which I'd never heard before.  Both dragons went back to glaring at each other and Mallory slid the dagger back into the seam.  Both stone and dagger groaned in protest but neither gave.    He wiggled the dagger in a bit deeper, braced himself, and closed his eyes.  He swayed like Jack after a third bottle of rum and the carchar cracked its entire length.  He listed onto one arm, panting slightly before gathering himself and sending the lid crashing onto the deck.  None of the crewmen having their own private party on the other side of the deck even flinched.  Come to think of it they hadn't reacted to any of Mallory's other attempts to breach the carchar either.  Were they seeing any of this or had Mallory thrown up some sort of glamour?   He must have.

He was purring a constant stream of El'lan into the broken carchar.  The voice was soothing but the eyes were suffused with anger and hate.  How can you hate like that and it not leek over into your voice?  He pulled a small double bladed knife out of his boot and laid his palm open cupping the blood in his other hand before taking what appeared to be dozens of slivers of bone out of the carchar.

"Is that?"

"He shattered her" his voice was still even and soothing but his eyes were blazing white hot fury "He shattered her and locked her away.  I'll fix you I swear.  It'll be alright." He picked through the pieces with his bloodied hands, slowly fitting them together and sealing them with his blood as the rest of us watched. A harp carved with a swan's wings but a woman's hands and face gradually emerged.  He reached over and grabbed one of the dark bottles draining away nearly half.  Then he tucked her sound box in tight against his chest and abruptly laid both wrists open with the boot knife.  Elizabeth and the Governor both gasped in either surprise or horror as blood at first flowed freely across the harp's ivory surface and then began sink in.  The harp came abruptly to life.  Her little mouth made an o – a soundless scream of horror and she lashed out at Mallory.  Who deflected something with his hands while continuing to purr El'lan at her with blood dripping off his elbows and onto the Pearl's dark boards "Boddhain gadu myfi cymorth chwi.  Mi tyngue Mi bodd dim o afles.  Mi nis.  Ei bodd fynnu.  Boddhain.  Boddhain.  Come on, hear what I am saying."  She lashed out at him again.  "Mrs. Turner would you be so kind as to come into her line of sight?  She doesn't realize I'm not my sire and she's fighting me.  She doesn't understand where she is.  Boddhain, boddhain gadu myfi cymorth chwi.  Mi tyngue Mi bodd dim o afles.  Boddhain.  I'm **asking **lass He never asked for a damn thing in his life."  The harp recoiled and then relaxed a bit as Elizabeth sat in front of my father on my left.  Mallory dropped his hands gently back onto the harp.  He gave Jack a wry glance "I think the Fates have mixed up which of us is which tonight.  That makes four women in as many hours to have slapped me."

The question slipped out before I could stop it "And did you deserve it?"

"From the Sea, undoubtedly, I was being an utter cad, from the Pearl, possibly, by Anna-Maria decidedly not, and the Bonny Swan thought I was my sire back to do her more harm."   He ran his hands over his forearms, turned back to the carchar and began rooting around it like a dog after a bone.  The fury was suddenly back in spades and he began to curse in something that was neither El'lan nor English.

"Neither of those is physically possible and you spilt an infinitive" Jack commented bringing the diatribe to a halt.

"I wasn't looking for a grammar lesson, Sparrow."

"Couldn't resist mate, I've never heard ye make a mistake before.  Now what are ye looking for?"

"He took her strings.  He took her voice and her reason for living.  She's an instrument – there's no point to her life if she can't play."  Head and shoulders both dropped "I'd have done better to leave her in the carchar broken forever."

"So restring her" Jack suggested.

"He made harp strings of her flowing hair – she can't be strung with anything el.." he looked at Elizabeth "What boon would you ask for nineteen strands of your hair?"

"Will it work?"

"I don't know but I would like to try.  What boon would you ask of the Blood?"

Elizabeth stammered "I don't know what to ask."

"The Blood acknowledges a debt as yet unpaid" he was **not** happy about that and started to rise.  Only a quick grab by Jack kept him from measuring his length on the deck.  He just sagged for a moment in Jack's grip before trying to regain his feet.  Jack's hands had completely disappeared into the glamour.

"Bloody hell" Jack paled "When did you last eat?"

"It's irrelevant" Mallory snapped back weakly trying to pull away and failing "I can't starve."

"Celwyddwr" Liar my memory supplied "That harp has more meat on its bones than you do.  Gibbs fetch something from the galley."

"Belay that" Mallory ordered with all of the authority he'd used on the dragons in spite of the fact that Jack was still supporting most of his weight.  Gibbs froze clearly torn.

"Who's Captain of this ship?" Jack growled.

"You are, **Captain** Jack Sparrow, but I'm not one of your crew anymore."  He **wiggled **free because he didn't have the strength to break Jack's hold.  "And I don't take orders.  I'll eat when and if it suits me."

"Fine."  Jack retorted with more anger than I'd ever heard in his voice "But Gibbs is part of me crew and he **will** be fetching something from the galley.  Ye can be a stubborn fool if ye like or ye can eat."

"I'm fine" Mallory barked back but I remembered my father's comments about lock kneed, never let them see you bleed stances.  Mallory looked like a summer breeze would take him off his feet.  Clearly the harp had been one magical feat too many in a single day.

"I asked ye earlier, now I'm asking again – will ye please drop yer bloody glamour?  Bill's seen ye, Gibbs has seen ye, I'd like te see the real face o the Ellyllon that raised me."

Had that been what touched off the fight I'd missed?  I'd have to ask Elizabeth later.  Wherever he'd been before coming here must have been sandy because he'd left another little pile of it behind squirming free of Jack.

"I told you no earlier, I've no intention of changing my mind tonight.  Now with your permission Captain, I'd like to attempt to give the Meddwi Alarches back a voice."

Jack waved his hands "By all means carry on.  Work yerself te bleeding death if that's what ye want." 

Elizabeth silently handed him strands of her hair and he carefully stung the harp.  He blew across the strings and the harp played in a questioning tone with Elizabeth's voice.

"Mallory ap Auberon, tywysogion a Avalon."

"_Mallory?" _the harp played back "_a Nimrais?"_

"Dis"

The harp played too quickly for me to even separate words.

Mallory replied "Fel chwi cyffelb.  Mrs. Turner, the Swan would very much like to meet the woman who generously gave her a new voice."

Elizabeth curtsied and Mallory said something in El'lan to which the harp replied.

"I always wanted to learn the harp" Elizabeth said quietly "My nurse told me my mother played."

"Yes, she did" the Governor sounded slightly choked "She played beautifully.  I never gave you music lessons because.." he let his words trail off as he discretely wiped his eyes.

"Be gentle with her, and go softly she's whole but not yet healed."

Elizabeth looked at Mallory questioningly.

"She loved Taliesin and he died tragically and young, she loved Myrddin and he went mad and died even younger, she'd rather not see me.  She doesn't want become attached to another doomed Ellyllon prince and I don't blame her.  You can teach her English and she can teach you to play."

Elizabeth carefully picked up the harp who averted her eyes from Mallory.  He flopped back into his place next to the cask.  He'd bounced back from the earlier blows by the Pearl and the carchar with amazing speed – going from semi-conscious to clear eyed and graceful in moments.  He wasn't bouncing this time.  Gibbs approached him like a man being asked to feed a starving lion but Mallory just ignored both him and the soup. 

Jack picked his rum back up "So who do we toast to next?"

Mallory just stared back with glazed, exhausted eyes.  When the silence stretched to breaking Elizabeth offered "To Bloody Mary?"

"Don't call her that" Mallory protested quietly "Of all of us she deserves that least.  The rest of us were far worse killers than Mary ever was."

"She burned people alive" Elizabeth protested.

"And she wept over every one of them" he sounded utterly drained "If I hadn't interfered, milady, you'd be a Catholic today and she'd be a hero.  If we had by some act of absolute stupidity managed to loose against the Armada you'd curse Drake's name.  The difference between a hero and a villain is often nothing more than which side of the fight you're on.  Mary was by far and away the best of us.  She was twice the woman Bess was but less than half the Queen." 

"King Edward didn't kill anyone" she argued.

It wasn't a smile that twisted his face "He would have if he'd lived long enough.  He use to keep a little merlin in his chambers and one day in a fit of pique he plucked her and ripped her to pieces with his bare hands.  And he was certainly never sorry for the act.  Now, I ask you, if he could do that to a bird he professed to love without a single qualm what would he have done to England?"

"You killed him" she breathed.

"No, I was half a world away when he died on my first circumnavigation of the world.  The only thing I ever did to Ned put sand in his ink.  Oh, and I shot his dog."  He raised his bottle "To the most unhappy lady in Christendom" and drank deeply.  "I use to think being a good man and a good king were mutually exclusive.  I knew every king in Europe and a good bit of the rest of the world for over sixty years and only once did I meet a good man who also made a good king."

Mr. Cotton was quietly walking toward us.  I'd been wondering what became of him since I hadn't seen him or his parrot until now.  One of Mallory's ears twitched slightly acknowledging his approach and dismissing it.   Then Mr. Cotton dropped something in his lap that sent Mallory scuttling back over the remaining bottles (I was rather impressed that he didn't knock any over).  Well, there was nothing wrong with his reaction time.   I glanced down at the musical instrument that had inspired his retreat.  Given Mallory's reaction and the white dragon on the front it could only be the cetera that he'd dropped into the sea with Captain Gray.  But it wasn't the cetera that Mallory was blinking at in horror.  It was Mr. Cotton himself.

**Historical note:  **Granuaile Ui Mhaille was in fact known in her day as the Irish pirate sheKing.  She remains to this day one of the few (perhaps the only) female pirate captains in Western history.  She had as many as twenty ships and well over 200 men at her command and 3 galleys of indeterminate make, "Ships unique to the coast of Ireland" to quote Sir Sidney one of Queen Elizabeth's men in Ireland.  These ships could and did back down small naval vessels.  Given that history provides no info other than they had 30 sweeps each I picture them as ships designed by Mallory and similar (though smaller) to the Pearl.

The bit about Edward Tudor and the falcon is straight out of history.


	8. The Mystery of Mr Cotton

**Author's notes: **OK – for everyone who wanted a short chapter – enjoy this one!  For those who like the longer ones the next one when Mallory and Jack finally get a semi-private moment together should be on par with the Bonny Swan in length.

**TheDmntdFerret****:**  Thank you for the superlative praise – I only hope I can continue to deliver.

**Blood of Avalon**

**Chapter 8: The Mystery of Mr. Cotton**

                Mr. Cotton remained as expressionless as always while Mallory sat back on his elbows and gawked.  He opened his mouth, started to speak, and then snapped it back shut three times before finally just muttering "Damn".

"Not yer usual level of articulate eloquence there, mate" Jack observed.

Mallory ignored him completely as he slowly levered himself to his feet.  The hair on my arms rose and Mallory snapped "I do **not** require assistance."  He stumbled a bit as he jerked forward and kicked the bowl of soup over the side.  **That** had been some very good soup, that was a loss.  It also occurred to me that that was now the second bowl to vanish over the side tonight.  Forget Anna-Maria and the glasses at this rate of attrition I was going to end up eating my meals out of the pot.

"Of course not" he said to the Pearl "I"  "But"  "No" "Yes" "Please don't be wroth with me.  I know I've been an utter ass this evening.  But I really am" He was slurring, not much, but there was a definite blurring of his normally crystal clear speech and his eyes had taken on that slightly out of focus look I'd seen far too often on Master Brown.  Plainly whatever Jack had spiked the Merlot with was beginning to make itself felt.   He paused and listened for several long breaths "You do not need to feel that way lass, I" she must have cut him off again.  Finally he inclined his head graciously "Far be it from me to deny so fair spoken a lady her pleasure."  His gaze returned to Mr. Cotton and he circled him slowly.

"I'll applaud later" Jack whispered to the Pearl.  "Credit where it's due lass you never would have manipulated him that easily if he wasn't suddenly a full sheet te the wind."

 Jack had a point he'd gone from stone cold sober to half gone in minutes.  But then he'd also evidently overextended himself magically – I somehow doubted that the two were unrelated.  He made a third (or was it fourth?) circuit of Mr. Cotton.  The parrot squawked indignantly. 

 Mallory looked up "Wow".   It looked like yet another Captain Jack Sparrow plan was about to break up on the shoals since apparently Mallory became monosyllabic when drunk.  He raised an arm and the parrot dropped lightly onto it.  He stroked the back of its head and rolled his arm so that it fanned its wings. 

"What bloody brilliant work, absolutely lovely" he muttered still slurring just a bit and sounding a lot like Jack. 

"It's just a parrot" Jack protested.

"No, it's a twyllodrus, the best twyllodrus I've ever seen.  But then Argellion always did do superlative work."  The parrot hopped from Mallory's arm to Cotton's shoulder.  "He was the best, the absolute best at that sort of thing, I'm not bad" he gestured to the not parrot "But that is just amazing."  He dropped his head "But he'll never craft another."  He flashed a green glare to the north-east.  "Like Mannwan he was one of my instructors, like Mannwan he was sent whether he will or nil against me, and like Mannwan I killed him.  Argellion couldn't fight his way out of a sack – he never had a bloody chance at least Mannwan had a better than even shot at me."

Elizabeth looked up from the harp "If he was the best why waste him in a fight he couldn't win?"

"Every Wild Hunt that has been sent after me has contained at least one Ellyllon or cyfae I knew well in the hopes that I'll make a fatal hesitation.  There is a certain ruthless logic to it.  Not only does it improve the chance that I'll be taken but if I'm not I'm put into a position of slaughtering my own supporters.  It's really quite neat and as I said I'm worth any twenty others.   I'm sure He considers it worth the price."  Mallory didn't sound like he agreed.  He gave himself a shake and when back to staring at Cotton.  "One does wonder how the blazes this happened."

Cotton opened his mouth but no sound emerged.

"Don't try" Mallory slurred quickly "You'll only hurt yourself but, undoubtedly, you already know that."

"What happened?" Jack voice had a certain long-suffering note in it.

"This gentleman seems to have become the pawn of at least a dozen different Ellyllon or cyfae."  Mallory made another circuit.  "I've been trying to figure out which of the various bits of magic that have been done to him was first but it's like trying to unravel the Gordian Knot."  He looked back up that the not parrot and then at Cotton.  "I'll say this though he's under a Gorchymyn of the King of Avalon not to communicate - Argellion's twyllodrus is an attempt to get around that."

"Then why doesn't the bloody thing ever speak clearly" Gibbs grumbled.

"Because it can't" his brow was furrowed in concentration and then his eyes narrowed "Puck put you to sleep.  It's Puck's doing that you're here."

"Wind in the sails" the not parrot said.

Mallory glanced at it in confusion.

"Mostly we figure that means yes" Gibbs said.

"Alright, so we're still playing one of Puck's games.  I've got a harp that won't speak to me and a man who can't.  Damn it all Puck, why couldn't you ever just send a clear message?"  He gave a little mirthless chuckled "because then you wouldn't be Puck and I wouldn't trust it anyway.  Should I trust you?" He asked Mr. Cotton.  "Don't answer that, it's a terribly rude question.  We'll pretend I do even if I don't.  The King of Avalon ripped out your tongue and put a Gorchymyn on you.  Was He just being his typically vindictive self or did you give Him cause?"

"Wind in the sails."

"A little of both then I suppose.  Well, the tongue is easily restored but that doesn't do a damn thing about the thrice benighted bloody Gorchymyn.  I suppose it'll at least make eating a more pleasant experience."

Jack caught his arm.  His hand disappeared completely – just how thin was Mallory?  "Are ye sure yer up te that?"

Mallory yanked his arm easily out of Jack's grip and stepped quickly but not quite gracefully back.  So he was starting to recover his strength again but he was still more than a bit inebriated.

"One nursemaid is more than enough.  Besides this poor soul has been used and abused by enough Ellyllon that he deserves whatever succor I can give him."

"Becalmed."

"I assume that means no?" Mallory asked Gibbs who shrugged.

Mallory canted his head "Do you want me to leave you alone? I most certainly would understand if"

"Becalmed" the not parrot cut him off.

"Do you want me to restore your tongue?"

"Wind in the sails."

"Then what did you say no to?  Is it that you think you don't deserve my help?"

"Wind in the sails."

Mallory looked surprised "Why? I know of no harm you have done to me or mine.  We have never met"

"Becalmed" the not parrot interrupted again.

Mallory studied Mr. Cotton more closely with intense curiosity while the parrot said "Dead men tell no tales."

"You're someone I think is dead?"

"Wind in the sails."

"How could I have missed Bledri and Anuion's work?  Now it almost makes sense."

"Would ye care te share?" Jack asked while Mallory continued to study Mr. Cotton in a slightly bleary fashion.

"The Alltude – the Exiles started this.  Late in his reign my grandfather banished seven Ellyllon, including Bledri, for apparently minor offenses.  When he was murdered and my instructors where recalled decades before they should have been Mannwan gave me six of their names so that they could take the place of the teachers I was loosing." He shook his head "It was like trading a bunch of Cambridge scholars for a pack of illiterate dock workers but any port in a storm as it were.   There's a certain knack to creating and maintaining a good glamour and of them only Anuion and Bledri had any talent for it.  The rest of them were living on the fringes of human society, barely surviving.  In exchange for their service I offered them cozy positions.  I am an Athrocysgad, a Master of Glamour.  I either assassinated or took advantage of the natural deaths of various prominent men and then replaced them with the Alltudes which allowed me to maintain permanent, obedient presences in key positions.  But that's irrelevant to this gentleman, suffice to say that with the exception of Bledri whom I all but marooned near Porto Bello I left all of the Alltude well set when I left for my Defod.  Sometime after Bledri's return to Europe and my own internment in the carchar they tried to mount a rescue except they were banished so they couldn't cross the Atalfa themselves" he waved a hand at Cotton "so they sent you instead.  How am I doing so far?"

"Wind in the sails."

"They wrapped you in glamour as one of the caeth but you were taken anyway probably long before you got anywhere near the Citadel.  You were brought before the King who had a bit of fun with his new toy then when he wearied of you he ordered you discarded.  Those who supported me in the court secretly intervened with the help of Puck.  Each set a sigil of some sort on you. Puck put you in an enchanted sleep and set you on a course to intersect mine."  He glanced questioningly at Cotton.

"Wind in the sails.  Shiver me timbers."

"Shiver me timbers?" Mallory glanced at Gibbs.

"He says ye missed a bit."

"Ah" Mallory frowned and studied Cotton again "Who are you though?" 

"He's Mr. Cotton" Gibbs volunteered.

"Is your name really Cotton?"

"Becalmed."

Mallory circled Cotton again.  "There are so many sigils I can't see a thing through them."  He cupped his hands around Cotton's chin, closed his eyes, and stood silent for what seemed like a small slice of eternity.  Cotton's eyes went crossed as he stuck out a perfect pink tongue and then caught Mallory as he half slid down him.  He braced himself against Cotton's chest and then pushed back to stand under his own strength.

"Better?"

"Red sky at night."

"Thank ye" Gibbs supplied before Mallory could even turn his done in eyes on him.

"My sincere pleasure" Mallory tucked his elbows into the Pearl's rigging and slouched back.  If Jack had done it it would have been a relaxed and comfortable pose but Mallory didn't slouch and I got the distinct impression that the only thing keeping him vertical was the rigging.  "The least I could do.  You deserve a good bit more."

"Becalmed."

Mallory arched a dark brow "Are we back to that?  I haven't a clue what the Alltude told you to convince you to come into Avalon after me but you lost whatever life you had all those years ago.  You were tortured, maimed, and are still being used by them.  If nothing else I owe you for that even if it didn't do any good in the end."

"Becalmed."

"It did some good?"

Hard silence.

"You're quite right that's my second terribly boorish question.  I could blame it on Sparrow and the no longer just a Merlot" Jack's head came up.  So Mallory had figured it out – from the beginning? Or did he realize after the effects so suddenly made themselves known? Or had he let Jack get him drunk?  "But I'm in a generally contrary mood tonight.  Would you be so kind as to strike that one from the record?  And I'll attempt to be better behaved, honestly, or dishonestly, since I'm really not terribly good at honesty.  Did that make any sense at all?  Not that it matters, ashes and dust."  He gave himself a slight shake.  "So we knew each other before I went back to Avalon, back in the 1500's?"

"Wind in the sails."

"Allies?"

"Wind in the sails.  Becalmed."

"Did they even tell you the risks?  None of them had the gifts to force you – were you blackmailed into it?"

"Wind in the sails.  Becalmed."

"You went knowingly into Avalon to save an enemy?"  He asked incredulously.

"Becalmed."

"You went knowingly into Avalon?"

"Wind in the sails."

"But we were no longer allies?"

"Wind in the sails.  Becalmed."

"You thought you owed me something?"

"Wind in the sails."

He canted his head "I'd like to pull down Bledri's glamour and get a real look at you but I have to take apart all the other" an almost Jack like wave "stuff they've piled on you.  I'm not sure if I can do that safely.  They made a horrid mess and I certainly shouldn't attempt it right now.  Not safe, not safe at all.  But if you're truly desperate I can try but I'm as likely to kill you as not and I can't do a thing about the Gorchymyn."

"Becalmed."

"Very wise" Mallory shook his head and sat down on the deck on the other side of the cask.  "Play your games with someone else Puck.  I thank you for the attempt, sir.  Whatever debt you might have owed consider it well and truly discharged, good evening."  And with that he dismissed Mr. Cotton who picked up the cetera and dropped it in Mallory's lap again.  Mallory gave a long suffering sigh "You want me to play?"

 Cotton picked up the cetera and pushed it into Mallory's hands.

"How did he even get it?" Gibbs wondered.

"Sea says she gave it to him to give back to me."  He started tuning the cetera "I'm not sure whether I find the thought of Puck and Sea in any kind of accord terrifying or comforting."  He played a quick scale to check the instrument's condition and then launched into a song in French.  By the second line Jack's eyes were wide, by the second verse he and Anna-Maria were in stitches, the Governor was turning purple though I couldn't tell if it was indignation or restrained mirth, Elizabeth's jaw was heading for the deck, and Gibb's face shifted between deep concentration and amusement.  Not knowing French all I could do was admire his stunningly good voice and nimble fingers.

Jack wiped streaming eyes "Where in bloody **Hell** did **ye** learn **that**?"

"In a brothel with the King who gave me this in the first place" he picked up the dark bottle he'd been working on "To Henri Bourbon, born Prince of Navarre, died King of France, a man who did his level best to be both the literal and figurative Father of France."  He drank and then muttered "How many times did I warn you not to travel in bloody open couches?  How many times Henri?"  He closed his eyes briefly and then got stiffly back to his feet.

"That was not appropriate to play before my daughter, sir" the Governor snapped chin up.

"On the contrary, as Aphrodite's handmaiden it contained any number of things which she should find…useful as a married woman."

The Governor just stammered and turned an even darker shade of purple.

"Are ye taking requests?" Marty asked.  I was surprised to realize that we were now surrounded by the entire crew.  Mallory gave a gracious bow and stepped firmly forward to the center of the deck "From the small country dance to the courtly ball – I've played for them all.  Ask and ye shall receive."

"Matthew 7:8" Jack murmured while the crew shouted requests to Mallory.  As Mallory played and the pirates sang and danced with gusto my father gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and then began whispering earnestly into Jack's ear.  My last sight as I slipped into sleep was the flash of concern in Jack's eyes while the pirates partied in the background.


	9. Opportune Moment I

**Author's notes:  Hello out there!**  I know I promised a longer chapter this time but the back half of this one is proving a bit difficult to hammer out so I thought I'd let y'all take a gander at this while I continue to wrestle with the other half.  Comments are always welcome! 

**Thanks DragonHunter200!  **As to what Bill said to Jack – he was just passing along the hobgoblin's warning/prophecy since Will (and Pearl) were the only ones who heard it earlier.  He was just making sure to get another ally in the whole 'keep Mallory aboard the Pearl' conspiracy.  Of course having Pearl herself goes a rather long way towards success on that count.  Mr. Cotton has his orders from Puck too (that sneaky hobgoblin!)

**FalconWing:  **Wow!  You have no idea how surprised (and overjoyed) I was to log in and discover my review count had gone from 19 to 27 overnight (and here I was beginning to think DragonHunter (I worship the ground you walk on)) was the only one still wading through my dementia.  As to Mallory's tough life all I can say is it's a good thing he's heir to a kingdom 'cause he's probably going to require the GNP of a small nation for the therapy bills.   On the subject of Mallory and Jack's relationship the answer is in the beginning of this chapter…

The song this begins with is, of course, Kansas' Dust in the Wind, which is basely stolen completely without permission. 

See bottom for historical notes.

**Blood of Avalon**

**Chapter 9a: Opportune Moment (Part I)**

**_I close my eyes only for a moment_**

**_And the moment's gone_**

**_All my dreams_**

**_Pass before my eyes a curiosity_**

**_Dust in the wind_**

**_All they are is dust in the wind._**

**_Same old song _**

**_Just a drop of water _**

**_In an endless sea._**

**_All we do crumbles to the ground _**

**_though we refuse to see._**

**_Dust in the Wind all _**

**_We are is Dust in the Wind_**

**_Now don't hang on _**

**_Nothing lasts for ever _**

**_but the earth and sky_**

**_It slips away and all your money _**

**_Won't another minute buy_**

**_Everything is Dust in the Wind_**

**_Dust in the Wind_**

**_All we are is Dust in the Wind._**

****

Nothing that depressing should be sung that beautifully was my first half-waking thought.  Elizabeth's breath was tickling my ear as she lay on the pallet beside me.  Aside from the music the Pearl's deck was completely still and quiet.

"Cheery little ditty yer singing there mate" Jack said from my left.

The music stopped "It's long past time for all good humans to be snug in their hammocks."  Mallory said from somewhere further out on the deck and to my right.

I opened my eyes just a touch while pretending to remain asleep.

"Ye didn't let anyone get that far" Jack rebutted sounding amused and then slightly plaintively "Am I human?"

Through my slitted eyes I took in all the bodies in silent repose scattered around the deck in the warm Caribbean night.  Mallory crossed over to Jack and set the cetera on the deck next to my pallet.

"Your mother was."

Jack picked up the walking stick and waved it reminding me of that night in Tortuga. 

"Tell me about her."

"Granuaile?  She was the toughest woman I ever met.  I'll never forget her giving birth of a morning and standing back to back with me against the Turks of an afternoon but she died old and grey ere I went to Avalon."

Jack sighed "Then she isn't me mother."

"No."

"Please tell me about **her**."

"I can't Jack.  I never met your mother."

"Never met, then how do Ellyllon?"

"The same way humans do.  I'm not your father, Sparrow, I'm no one's father" he said heavily.

Jack's face fell but he covered it with a ribald question "No one's father – isn't that a bit bold? I mean a man can't ever be completely sure a bit o wild oats hasn't sprouted."

"He can be if he's never sown any" was Mallory's dull reply.

"Ye never, ye're not **really** a eunuch are ye?" Jack asked in shock.

Mallory sat on the deck, wrapped his arms around his shins, and set his chin on his knees "In practice if not currently in fact.  Sex leaves traces behind that to the Cwn Annun would appear remarkably like a Blood link.  I **will not** leave some poor wretch to the Wild Hunt because I had a yen to scratch an itch, for as long as I remain a fugitive I remain a 'eunuch'."

I'm not sure either Jack or I were really paying attention to anything he said after the not currently comment.  Jack echoed my own thoughts "Currently?"

"Soft tissue is easy to replace" he whispered as he curled and uncurled his fist "and the King of Avalon gave me a great deal of practice but bones take weeks to regrow.  I really hate having my fingers cut off.  My tongue works, my fingers work, I assume everything I had to restore does too."

Jack swallowed audibly.

"Is there any undiluted absinthe left?"

Jack handed him the last bottle in the cask silently.  He waited while Mallory uncorked the bottle and took a gulp before speaking again.

"If ye aren't me father why did ye let Bledri think I was yer son?"

"Because if I had told him I was trading my own life for that of my father's adhil I would have had to use a Gorchymyn to gain his assistance."

"Brothers?" Jack asked stunned.

Mallory reached across and grasped Jack's hand with the only genuine, unshadowed smile I'd seen since he arrived "Brothers, bach brohair."

Jack kept hold of his hand "Will ye please eat?  I had more meat on me bones on Isla de Muerta in the moonlight than ye do."

"You didn't have any meat on your bones in the moonlight" Mallory slurred.

"Neither do ye.  Please answer me question, honestly – are ye alright?"

"There isn't a thing physically wrong with me, Captain Sparrow, barring missing the odd meal, and I can't starve to death" it wasn't possible to go all distantly formal while slurring but he gave it a good try.  I had to fight back a grin in spite of the seriousness of the conversation.

"So let me see ye."

"No."

"Why not?" he snapped angrily "Ye sang everyone else te sleep – what is it yer not letting me see?"

"What makes you think I had anything to do with everyone else's current state of repose?"

"I know me crew and there was still a fair bit o party left in 'em, besides how many times did ye try te teach me te sing people te sleep?  I may never have gotten the knack but I know now when I hear it done."

"Oh, you got the knack you just don't sing to do it.  Why exactly do you think there are seven agents of the East India Company still scratching their heads and trying figure out how you escaped?"

"But they didn't fall asleep" Jack protested.

"No, but you redirected them all the same, same principle, similar results, just a different style.  You lull people with your voice and your hands and you're really quite good."

"Then ye'll be dropping that glamour?"

"No." I remembered that tone from Noman – if I were Jack I'd stop now while I was ahead. "You'll find me less easily bespelled than most."

"Why am I not surprised?  Would ye have really traded yer life for mine, back on the Dominant?"

"Sparrow, as I told you in Tortuga, I'd return **willingly** to the King of Avalon before I let him lay eyes on you again much less anything else, in comparison merely dieing is transcendent bliss.  Besides, I decided a long time ago if it came down to a choice between us you'd be the one left standing."

Now there was a statement to give a man pause.

"Even after I nearly killed ye? Why?"

Mallory canted his head "Because you're my little brother, because I love you in spite of the fact you're a daft idiot, because I'm already doomed anyway, because at absolute best I'm damaged goods, and because in all honesty given some of the things I've done I'm far more deserving of death than you're ever likely to be."  At least he didn't break any fingers to emphasize his points this time.

"Damaged goods?  I thought ye said ye were fine" Jack challenged.

"I said I was **physically **fine and I am.  I didn't say a bloody word about my enaid." He took another swallow of absinthe "Which is another very good reason not to trust me – things slip.  Sometimes they slip rather… messily."

Jack's eyes flickered to the left.  I followed his gaze and my eyes went wide in spite my determination to appear to be still asleep.  An old woman in an outdated but once fine fur lined gown was running in tight circles around the middle of the deck. 

Mallory didn't bother to look over "That's Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury.  The headman will catch up to her in two more rounds.   He took multiple blows to sever her head.  It isn't pretty." I closed my eyes as she obviously fought with the headsman.  "She was a White Rose – Harry Mouldwarp was so proud of snipping all the buds" the tone when he said Harry was identical to the one for Philip, full of contempt and loathing.  His own voice was proud when he continued "But I stole one and hid it."

"What are they?" Jack whispered.

'They?' I wasn't sure whether to open my eyes or not.

"Ysbyrd" Mallory replied "Ghosts, if you prefer, but they only endlessly repeat the few moments before their deaths.  That's really all I hear, just their last thoughts whatever that might be nothing from before.  They aren't something you can talk to, at least not usual sense.  The real person is gone all that remains is the endless echo as the blood cries out."

"Genesis 4:10" Jack muttered.

"Just so" Mallory agreed. "I was having a difficult time earlier keeping everyone else from seeing them.  It's their night to be seen.  I did consider letting Lady Turner see a few of them but decided it really wasn't appropriate in her delicate state.  I used to sit on the battlements of the Tower of London and let the dead walk the grounds. That's how Bess knew were to find me all those years ago and more than a bit o the reason the place is considered haunted."

"Is one of them her?"  I cautiously opened an eye.  Dozens of men and a handful of women in a variety of rich clothes all appeared to be fighting air. 

"No, Bess died in her bed of natural causes, no ysbyrd, and only those I knew well and was present for the death of are clear.  You won't find the dead of over two score battles on your deck tonight.  Those are the ones I assassinated."  One by one they winked out to be replaced by a single, frail, petite young woman, barely more than a child really, in black with not quite red hair holding a bible.  She strode with measured resignation across the deck.  A few flakes of blowing snow rested briefly on the dark fabric of her dress only to melt into it.

"Disgwyl am myfi, annwyl" Mallory closed his eyes.    She looked so tiny and alone with the snow swirling around her.  I wondered who she had been.

_"Good people"_ she said sounding far bolder than she looked. I was shocked – the other ghosts had made no sound.  Their mouths had moved but I had heard nothing.  Why could I hear her?  _"I am come hither to die and by law I am condemned to the same.  The fact, indeed, against the Queen's Highness was unlawful, and the consenting thereunto by me: but touching the procurement and desire thereof by me I do wash my hands in innoceny before God and the face of thee, good Christian people.  I pray ye all bear witness that I die a good Christian woman.  And now, good people, while I am alive, I pray you assist me with your prayers.  May I read a Psalm?"_

She turned a bit to her right and paused with her little red lips pursed and her beautiful dark eyes expectant.

"_Have mercy on me, o God, according to thy loving kindness:  according to thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions._

_Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity and cleanse me from my sin for I acknowledge my transgression and my sin is ever before me._

_Against thee and thee only have I sinned and done this evil in your sight: that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest._

_Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean.  Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow._

_Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice._

_Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities._

_Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me._

_Cast me not away from thy presence; take not thy Holy Spirit from me._

_Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me with thy spirit_

_Then will teach transgressors thy eyes ways; and sinners shall be converted to thee._

_Deliver me from bloodguilitiness, O God, thou God of my salvation; and my tongue shall sing of your righteousness. _

_O Lord, open thou my lips; and my mouth shall shew forth thy praise."_

"Psalm 51" Jack murmured as we watched unseen hands stripped her of her gown and gloves leaving her exposed to the obvious cold in only her shift.

_"Will you take it off before I lay me down?"_ she asked softly, nervously, before a blindfold was wrapped around her eyes.  "_I pray you will dispatch me quickly.  I give you my complete forgiveness." _She knelt down in the snow and straw and began frantically searching _"Where is it? What shall I do?  Where is it?"_

The block I realized with a sinking horror.  She couldn't find the block.  Slender fingers no bigger than her own finally grasped her hand and a young boy, tall, but looking no more than ten, in black and silver appeared on one knee before her.  Jack? Was my first thought but the frantic green eyes and pointed ears had to be Mallory's.  Snowflakes and water droplets were strung like jewels in his dark hair. Why did he appear now when he hadn't appeared in any of the other visions?

_"Please Jane, let me get you out of here" _begging, he was abjectly begging.  There was an open vulnerability in those eyes I'd certainly never seen in him _"You do **not have** to die today. Not unless you yourself desire it.  Please Jane."_

You could feel her glare at him even with the blindfold in place "_Get thee behind me, Satan.  Where is it?_"

He winced and with resignation he guided her hand forward.  The already dripping, blood soaked, block appeared under her fingers. The snow at its base was pink.  He laid a hand against her face in a tender if silent farewell.  He stepped back to stand with a tight coiled tension a little behind the block as she laid her head upon it.  Those naked green eyes were still pleading as she said _"Lord into Thy hands I commend my spirit."_  She spread her arms.  I didn't want to see the end so I studied young Mallory instead.  My God, but he did favor his brother even more than my father and I favored each other.  I had expected there to be dragons on his clothing but there was a plainness to his garb in spite of the richness of the velvets and silk it was made of.   The apparition's eyes went wide suddenly and he crumpled forward on his face into the now carmine snow.

"Mallory!" my eyes went wide open at Jack's shout.  All of the ghosts had vanished and Jack was shaking Mallory so hard you could hear his teeth clunking together.  I sat up, quickly disentangling myself from my blissfully sleeping wife. 

"What's" I began and then abruptly ran out of words.  Mallory's eyes were gone, well not really gone, but they'd become black pits into a bottomless abyss.  No white, no green, just never ending darkness.

"Not breathing" Jack said under his own breath.  I gingerly put a hand to his throat starting back as my finger tips vanished.  God but he was perilously thin.  I couldn't find a pulse.  Jack gave him another shake.

"Don't ye dare!  Do ye hear me!  I'll follow ye te the lowest circle of bleeding hell if that's were ye've gone, and whilst I'm at it I'll kick that bloody hobgoblin.  He said ye'd die if ye left.  According te Bill he didn't say a damn thing about ye dieing if ye stayed."  He slapped him hard.  No response.  Jack gathered him up against his chest.  "Damn ye.  I'm never going te forgive ye for this.  And if ye don't start breathing I'm going te kill ye again."

"You sound like Henri" Mallory muttered as I lay quickly back.  Elizabeth didn't stir as I spooned her against me.  "That has got to be the emptiest threat known to man."

He leaned back against my pallet as Jack released him.

"What in God's name just happened?" Jack growled.  I was rather keen to know that myself.

"I suppose I should have warned you about that but"

His words were cut off by the crack of a slap "And ye bloody well deserved that.  Ye knew that was going te happen?"

"I always die with Jane" Mallory replied softly "I just don't stay that way.  Sometimes in my odder moments I think death is angry about that and follows me."  He shook his head as if clearing cobwebs "We were cydio.  I didn't mean to do it.  I didn't even know what it was or what I'd done to myself until those nights in the library."

I wanted a diagram, a dictionary, and a timeline.  It occurred to me that I'd probably just missed a sterling opportunity at his journal or maybe not as he surely would have noticed it was missing.

"It's how I marked the passing of years in the oubliette.  I used to play 'what if?' down there in the dark.  How would the world have been different if I had managed to convince Jane to go with me on the Peregrine?  But good Christian girls don't run away from their responsibilities with mad Ellyllon princes.  Oh, no" his voice had dropped to a whisper "They stay home and get used to further someone else's ambitions and when the coup falls apart they pay the ultimate price.  Do you know where her mother was when she died?  Shagging the bloody groom.  She used Jane as a tool her whole bloody life.  Beat her for the least infraction, the least imperfection, she never gave Jane a kind word, not one. She couldn't even manage to be decent to her when she died because of her mother's twisted ambitions.  Not even so much a farewell. She sold her to Tom for 2000 pounds so he could use her as a pawn to until I arranged his death but at least Tom was kind.  Never did understand Tom.  Damn fool why did you have to kill her?  Bess was never going to marry you."  His words trailed off.

"Kill who?"  Jack prompted.

"Lady Latimer, well that isn't how history remembers her.  Catherine Parr.  Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived."  Another mirthless little chuckle.  Even I knew that referred to Henry the VIII's six wives.  "Survived by what?  Not even two years.  **Damn** you Tom but you didn't even let her hold her."

"Let her hold who?"  Mallory didn't reply.  Instead a tall, elegant woman with hair of auburn tinged with threads like gold danced across the deck, laughing silently at something.  The greyhound at her side pressed its slender muzzle into her hand and a small parrot was perched on her shoulder.  Her mouth was too tiny, her nose too short, and her forehead far too broad for her to ever be described as a beauty and yet there was something in her eyes.  A kindness, a compassion that made you stop and look again and suddenly you realized that this was true beauty.  A beauty that came from within until she almost glowed with it. 

"Milady Latimer" Mallory whispered and you could taste the longing and the love in his voice. "Forget vain and vicious Lettice Knollyns or the mysterious allure of Anne Boleyn, Catherine was the fairest flower to ever grace the English court.  She and Lord Latimer came to the court in 1540 as an end result of the Pilgrimage of Grace debacle.  I must confess that I was at somewhat of a loss after Cromwell's sudden fall in July of that year.  In the over four years since I had been given over to him I had never had a moment in which I was not either spying, planning an assassination, learning the fine art of torture, or with Ned, Bess, and Jane learning to be a proper courtier.  She caught me in a corridor at Nosuch about to engage in some less than polite mischief.    She had a knack, she did, for looking right into the soul and a tendency to pick up strays.  She wanted children so badly but she was barren so she collected the ones others either ignored or were too 'noble' to be touched.  Me first, and then Jane, Bess, Ned, and even Mary a little later.  She was like a balm on an open wound.  That's why Mouldwarp Harry was so keen to have her as his next bride even though she was already planning to wed another.  What a change – I went from torture chambers to humanitarian philosophy in almost a single breath.  **She **was a Christian – Christ like in thought, word, and deed.  She tried so hard to think of everyone else.  It was with Milady Latimer that I discovered I could heal.   She wanted a little one so badly so I healed her after that Mouldwarp Harry died and she finally got to marry Tom.  Mannwan was furious with me." He was studying his toes again and the Countess of Salisbury was back to running her rounds "He'd brow beaten me into promising not to heal again but" he shrugged "I never really did stop even when I was Enchidirion."  Dagger – or teacher my memory supplied from earlier. "We left the English court after that, apparently Mannwan felt I was becoming too 'attached' to the humans.  From February of 1547 until August of 1548 when our darling papa poisoned our grandsire I was on the whirlwind tour of Europe.  I was still in Spain with that ambulatory pustule Philip when Wind brought news that she'd gotten childbed fever.  There was no one left to stop me so I flew to England.  Did you know I'm the only Ellyllon that does that?"

"Does what?"  Jack asked while giving Mallory a concerned look.  It looked like Mallory was actually a chatty drunk but he tended to go off in all sorts of directions.  If I were Jack I would be trying a bit harder to steer the conversation but to each his own.

"Flies.  Argellion kept going on and on about all the things I might do when I came into my full strength.  Flying was among them.  I didn't know until my Defod that Argellion was given to hyperbole.  No one flies but me, no one has ever flown but me.  It's exhausting, exhilarating, but utterly exhausting.  Half the things that people ooh and ahh over are little more than parlor tricks.  Healing is unforgivingly exacting but it doesn't really take much power but flying, flying is hard.  Never did manage to convince Bess of that.  She always did have the notion if she could find it on a map I could be there and back in an hour."  He took another drink "We should be burying him ye know." He gestured vaguely in my direction "I never should have made it in time. Nearly a thousand miles in a single shot without a breather?  That breaks my distance record and in a mere five hours?  That's nigh te half again me previous best pace.  And to pull the Pearl more than a full day's sail at the same time?  Mind you Wind, Sea, the crew, and the Pearl herself were all willing and assisted but still impressive."  He reached out and ruffled my hair the way he once use to in the forge "Mind you I'm glad we're not." He muttered something and every hair on my body stood at attention.

"What was that?" Jack asked with a trace of awe.

"A blessing that no matter what else happens that they will live to see not only the lass she's carrying but many more to come.  Of course a blessing assures nothing but it does load the dice, as it were.  Pity I didn't bless Tom and Catherine.  Anyway I made my first flight that beautiful September 3rd morning and arrived at Sudeley Castle on the 4th with barely the strength to stand.  Penthalions do not come into our full strength until nearly our second century and I was not yet sixteen.  She was so far gone I would have a hard time saving her even now – how I managed then I've never understood.  I spent the whole next day insensate under her bed.  History says that her fever miraculously broke on the 5th that it was by God's grace she was given time to make her peace before death claimed her.  The truth was she was recovering nicely and should have lived to see Mary's children.  Late that evening I emerged and after conveying her surprise and delight at seeing me she asked me to fetch the daughter no one had even thought to show her.  I'll never forget stepping back into her chamber only to hear her death rattle.  Gone, just gone.  Her body dead and her enaid already slipping away beyond the distant stars.  I could have caught her like Taliesin did the Bonny Swan but I didn't.  She wouldn't have wanted that – she believed a God of love, justice, and mercy was waiting te welcome her home.  Sometimes when I think of Jane and Lady Latimer and the others I'd like to believe that there was some benevolent father waiting to gather them in but even at fifteen I'd seen too much to ever have faith in that.  But I'd rather wanted to have faith in love.  I did have my illusions and one of them was that if love didn't necessarily conquer all it was at least worth more than power.  It shattered rather thoroughly on that cloudless, moonless night with little Mary, the child I'd given her, mewing in my arms and her mother gone cold and lifeless.  Dust and ash in the wind.  I closed my eyes for a moment and the moment was gone.   That break neck rush to England, the seat of the pants healing, all for naught, all undone by a man's wild greed and a draught of poison."  He took a long drink from the dark bottle.  "She was the first living thing to ever see _me_.  My grandsire saw only a different heir, Aschem another brilliant student to add to his quiver of accomplishment, Cromwell saw a tool, Worsley saw a maliable protégé, Skeffington saw a clever assistant"  Skeffington!? My mind flashed back to a day in the forge

_I brushed my hair back self consciously as a well dressed gentleman stepped into the shop. Master Brown was blithely snoring in his usual chair and Noman had gone to barter for some much needed supplies.  I didn't have a clue what he was going to barter with since Master Brown had drank all of the ready cash and most of the credit but Noman seemed confident when he left that we'd be fine._

_"Where is your Master, boy?" the gentleman asked as he frowned down in nose at me.  His perfume blanketed the shop._

_"Master Brown is, indisposed" Noman had taught me that word.  It did sound better than drunk "Can I be of some assistance?"_

_He passed me a sheave of diagrams "I want these made and I want an estimate before I leave __Port Royal__ tomorrow morning."  He spun on his heel and left nearly colliding Noman and a couple of porters on the way out._

_"Who was that?" Noman asked wrinkling his nose slightly against  the overpowering scent of dying lilies that covered even the smell of burro, charcoal, and Master Brown's liquor.  _

_"Sir Skeffington" one of the porters said "has a sugar plantation about day's carriage ride out.  Where do ye want these?"_

_Noman waved a hand to an unused corner and asked me "What did he want?"_

_I passed him the sketches "He wants an estimate by tomorrow…what's wrong."_

_Those normally brilliant green eyes had gone shadowed and haunted "We shan't be taking this commission.  I'll draft a suitable refusal."  For an instant it looked as if he was going to toss the pages in the fire but he set them down instead._

_"But he's a paying customer" I protested.  We couldn't afford to turn anyone away!  Especially not a gentleman of standing in the community – all it would take was a word in the right ears and we'd never have another customer again._

_"How much do you think this job is worth?" he asked coolly while the men continued to unload his purchases._

_"I don't know" I answered shuffling my feet – Noman had been teaching me the art of pricing work but I hadn't started making my own estimates yet._

_"Get a piece of charcoal and calculate the hours and materials" he said as he flipped the sheets and muttered "I thought I'd seen the last of these."_

_"Bull pricks – I'm telling ye he ordered a half dozen dried bull pricks.  What on earth does a man do with dried bull pricks?"_

_"Who did?" there was a note I'd never heard in Noman's voice before – something cold and hard._

_"That Sir Skeffington, he did.  Odd man" they nodded to Noman and left._

_"Why aren't we taking the contract?" I asked as I worked on the figures._

_"You don't know what these are, lad, but I do.  A long time ago, when Henry the Eighth was king, another Sir Skeffington was Lieutenant of the __Tower__ of __London__.  He was the king's torturer and he enjoyed his work but he had a problem – racks aren't portable.  Now mind there are plenty of ordinary, everyday items that a good torturer can put to creative use but torture isn't just about pain, it's about head games and there's nothing quite like the sight of an object that's whole purpose for existing is to inflict pain.  More than one man who's never actually been stretched on one has broken at the mere sight of the rack.  So Sir Skeffington invented a batch of nice portable items and dictated their design and uses to his assistant."  He tapped the diagrams in front of me "The only thing these exist for is to inflict pain.  I won't build them, I won't teach you to make them, and I won't stay here if you choose take his coin." _

_I looked down at the paper and back at Noman "What does he want them for?"_

_"I assume to discipline his slaves" Noman answered blandly._

_"There's nothing illegal about a man beating his slaves" I said tentatively._

_"There you go confusing right and wrong with courts and law again, Cennan.  There are plenty of things that are perfectly legal that are just plain wrong.  But you'll have to make those decisions for yourself just like you'll have to decide if your honor is for sale."_

_"But he'll just get someone else to make them" I protested weakly, unable to meet Noman's eyes._

_"But at least your conscious will be clear" he rebutted as he put a finger under my chin and forced me to meet his eyes "I really, truly hope you never see what these can do to a man." He pulled one out of the stack "This one is called Skeffington's Daughter.  How are those figures coming?"  _

_I pushed the sooty stone toward him "Close enough" he allowed checking them. "Now" he set the stone back in front of me "Is this enough to buy back peace of mind when they put some poor wretch in Skeffington's Daughter because he didn't cut enough cane, or because she rebuffed her master's base advance?  One turn for discomfort, two for pain, at three bones start to break and blood flows freely from nose and mouth.  Death comes soon after."_

_I looked down at the smugged figures and thought about how little it would buy compared to what it would cost._

_"There are things money can't buy" I said repeating something Mum use to say all the time.  Of course she had been referring to love while Noman was making a point about integrity but it was still true._

_"Your parents would **both** be very proud of you" he ruffled my hair and I stood up straighter basking in the light of his approval._

_This time he did set them aflame. "I should have done that a long time ago" he murmured as Sir Skeffington's designs went up in smoke._

_"Those weren't ours" I looked at him with wide horrified eyes._

_"They weren't yours" Noman corrected "and I will settle matters with Sir Skeffington."  He scattered rubies and black pearls on the table between us._

_"Are they stolen?"_

_"No, they're yours."_

_"Mine?"  
  
_

_"Reparations for depriving you of client" he explained as I stared at the small fortune in front of me._

_"I can't take these."_

_"You aren't taking – you're accepting.  Besides you'll need them when the time comes for you to woo that young lady that's taken your fancy up on the hill."_

_I dropped onto a stool, head down "I'm not good 'nough for a lady."_

_"Did you know that Lord Swann was born a merchant's son and was originally nothing more than a clerk?"_

_"Then how did he become a Lord?  Did he perform some heroic act" I never got to finish the question because Noman laughed himself right off his own stool.  Eventually he wiped his streaming eyes and said "No, he gained his title the old fashioned way, he married it.  That lass on the hill has her own mind and will marry whomever she chooses.  If you've a mind to be that man William Turner then don't let the fact that you're a blacksmith stop you."  He gathered the ashes of Sir Skeffington's papers into his left hand and cupped his right over them.  His brow furrowed briefly in concentration, the hair on my arms rose, and his eyes widened in surprise before he opened his hands revealing only a few flecks of ash and a perfect, glittering diamond.  He gave me a wide grin "I thought I'd lost the knack for doing that" he added it to the pile of gemstones "You set that one in a ring and one day when I come back I want to see it on your lass's finger.  Living purity caught between fire and earth."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Diamonds – that's what they are.  But you just keep that safe until the opportune moment.  And stop fretting about Sir Skeffinton's papers that's the best use they could ever be put to.  I'll deal with the man himself."_

I glanced down at the elegant ring encircling Elizabeth's finger as the realization that the exquisite gemstone twinkling back at me was formed from the remains of a nightmare.  More than that I now recognized the handwriting on those aged sheets as Mallory's own.  And I recalled that Sir Skeffington had never gotten a chance to return for his estimate – he'd died that very night in a tragic 'accident'.   Bolger vanished, Skeffington died – I wondered, with a chill and a complete understanding of my father's fear, how many others had vanished from Port Royal during Mallory's three month stay?  I had liked Noman, I'd have trusted him with my life in a heartbeat but it was unsettling to truly realize, more than just intellectually, that he was also an accomplished cold-blooded killer.  And not just before the oubliette either.  I forced my wandering attention back to Jack and Mallory who lowered his head.

"She would never, ever have approved of what I did next.  Good Christian that she was she believed in forgiveness.  I've never been very good at that.  I've never been quite sure whether it's a strength or a profound character flaw but I'm not the forgiving type.  It wasn't hard to arrange Tom's death. He'd never kept any secrets from me.  Hell, he's the one who introduced me to both the Sea and Granuaile the day the Mouldwarp took her from Tom to be his sixth wife." He sighed and drank "Sometimes I'm sorry for that, I always rather liked Tom then I remember why and I'm not sorry at all."  A handsome, foppishly dressed gentleman took her hands and they slowly faded into the night.  "I finished Peregrine the day after the Lord Admiral Thomas Seymour went to the block.  I wanted **_away_** so damn badly, no more courts, no more intrigues, no more killing, no more betrayals, no more spying.  But I didn't sail for nearly a month.  I tried so hard to convince Jane to come with me but she wouldn't and then when Ned died and that creature that professed to be her mother with Dudley's help put the damned crown she didn't want on her head.  I'll wonder until the day I die whether I could have stopped that if I hadn't been idling in the Indian Ocean.  I might have tipped the balance but I wasn't there and she didn't have a prayer against them.  They flogged her into submission to marry that milksop, momma's boy Guilford and her own mother pinioned her for a forced consummation."  He closed his emerald eyes, "I'm so sorry Jane.  Why is it I never seem to be where I need to be when it matters most?"  He reopened his eyes "By the time I made it back to England her nine day rule was over and she was a prisoner in the Tower.  There were a dozen different ways I could have gotten her out but she wouldn't go and I.  I, gods but everyone else had tried to force her into their mold I was the one person left with Lady Latimer dead that she trusted to."  I don't know if it was the absinth  or the memory but he gotten himself thoroughly tongue tied.  He stopped, took a deep breath, and started over.  "I could have forced her but I refused to do so.  And she was so sure that Mary would pardon her.  If it had just been Mary she would have, good woman, bad queen.  Always thinking with her heart, Mary Tudor, crucified herself to her mother's memory when a more ruthless soul would have fled the sinking ship.  But it wasn't just Mary anymore – she had that heart of hers set on marrying Pustule of Spain, sight unseen, and I knew exactly whose heads he was going to want on plates before he ever set foot in England.  Pustule and I had already been at loggerheads, in point of fact he'd already executed me twice."

"Executed?" Jack echoed with raised brows.

"He sent me to the stake" Mallory shrugged "but neither Fire nor Water will harm me.  Gives me one heck of an advantage in the torture chamber as it means you're essential confined to slice, crush, and stretch not that you can't make life damnably uncomfortable with just those.  I waited a reasonable length of time and slipped away.  The price of Philip's hand was Jane's head and Mary chose to pay it.  And Jane chose to let them.  You were only sixteen" that wild protest wasn't spoken to Jack and there was anguish behind it "So young, so damn _young_, and already tired of living."  His voice was a perfect match for hers when he spoke "I want my coronation of glory, Rhys, no more pricks and bobs, no more pain and this way I get a martyr's crown.  If my King calls me home in His cause then who I am to refuse His summons?  I want to fly free and this is the only way, don't try to keep me imprisoned, please, Rhys."  He switched back to his own voice "So I let her go and be a martyr to her precious Christ."  He raised glowing eyes "She asked me to swear to take no vengeance against Mary and her mother but she never said a word about Philip.  And I already owed Philip for Diego and Esteban.  A painting, he gave Esteban to the" he swore vehemently in a language I didn't know but clearly Jack did "Inquisition over a painting."  He shot to his feet, swayed, and pitched one of the empty bottles which shattered against the mast.  "You destroyed his entire bleeding family because ye coveted a bit of canvas covered in pigment.  Did ye forget the bloody tenth commandment 'Scourge of Heresy'?  'thou shalt not covet'  And how about 'thou shalt not bear false witness'?  Or 'thou shalt not murder?'.  And Dragon's Claws but I'm drunk." He collapsed back onto the deck.  "Haven't been this far gone since the first time I went to the stake saving Juan from Philip and the same bloody Inquisition.  You know that's the only task I set myself back then that I failed at?"

"And that would be?" Jack was looking quite pleased with himself.

"I wanted to wipe the Inquisition from the face of the earth.  Bit off more than I could choke down on that one.  Kicked it out of the Netherlands though and kept it out of France."  He seemed to think very hard for a moment "I was trying to make a point but I seem to have lost it somewhere."  He leaned back on his elbows "Let's see – I let you get me drunk because…damn but I've forgotten."

Jack's face fell "Ye knew from the beginning?"

Mallory gave him a bleary glare "Ye never, ever stop paying attention, brother, not if ye want te keep breathing – I learned that lesson a long time ago.  I didn't miss any of that bit with ye, Anna-'ria, and the Governor.  Of course I did it accidentally back then – thought absinth was like alcohol and just chugged it.   Ended up howling bawdy songs at the top of my lungs through the whole ceremony cause they can't just get to the bloody point in Spain.  Oh no ye have te have a full day ceremony first.  Ye should have seen the Inquisitor's face.  But tha's 'relivent.  Oh yes, Pustule, how could I forget that conniving little weasel and the reasons why I rearranged Europe.  The simple answer is – my friends were Protestant. The Catholics were killing them.  I took it damn personally.  If the thrice benighted Christian God wasn't going to save or avenge the people who loved him then I bloody well would!  Of course Pustule wasn't planning to stop with Jane, Bess was supposed to follow her to the block but I stopped that one in its tracks.   Now there was a woman who understood practicality.  Truth told of Mary, Jane, Ned, Bess, and I she was the only one really suited to rule.  Mary, Jane, and Ned thought too much of high principles and convictions and I'm far too hot-tempered.  Mind you Bess had a temper too but she was always better at restraining it than I am.  Not that she didn't make her mistakes but we complimented each other well and managed to avoid the worst pitfalls and we wrapped Philip in his own web."

He took another swig, shook his head a little, and handed the bottle to Jack "If ye talk me want to keep think better you had this take."

"Ye said it, mate" Jack took back the almost empty bottle and then looked back at Mallory "Brother.  Damn it, ye bloody well knew I always wanted an older brother why didn't ye ever tell me?"

Mallory had thrown his head back to study the stars.  The Countess was back again.  He gave her a long-suffering glance "You can stop.  It worked, honestly."

"Don't change the subject and no deflecting – why didn't ye tell me?"

Mallory sighed "Because there was a time when your ig, oh, bugger, it was safer when you were a child for both of us."

"In case it escaped yer attention – I'm not a child anymore."

"It certainly hasn't" he was speaking more slowly and enunciating his words in what I had to assume was an attempt not to garble them.  "I rather think I've a bit more had than wise was – or something like that."

Well, he was at least trying.

"Of course I haven't had much practice at being inib, drunk either.  What **do** you and Bledri see in this anyway?  It's damn annoying."

"Apparently it's an acquired taste.  Now, how do ye even bloody know yer me brother?"

Mallory sat back up, sort of, and canted his head "Blood will tell, Adarrto.  And besides it was Wind, Sea, and Peregrine's fault ye in Tortuga were in the place first.  In London you born were.  They away from Him you took."

Jack actually chuckled "I really do think ye should eat something, sometimes it helps."

"No" Mallory replied sulkily.

"When did ye last eat?" I was shocked that handed those tidbits of information Jack instead chose to badger him about eating.  I opened my eyes a bit further and realized I was looking at a very worried Captain Jack Sparrow.

"New Year's Eve" Mallory slurred.  My God, that was over two months ago! "Of 1708"  I felt a chill creep up my spine – over a year and two months, that certainly constituted more than 'the odd meal'.  Why wasn't Mallory eating? "At Cap Francois while watching I was over Marie's recovery from her second surgery."

"And where did ye spend New Year's Day?" Jack asked with far too much nonchalance as he studied his fingernails.

"On a beach" Mallory replied distantly as he curled up into a ball. 

Jack swallowed – was this related to whatever the Wind had told him about Mallory?  It had to be since no one had seen Mallory since the Dominant eight years ago.  "What happened te ye?"

"Nothing happened to **me**, I wasn't there.  Never, ever where I bloody need to be" he shook himself "That isn't what I'm here to discuss.  It's gratuitous to the at hand subject which is you, Captain Jack Sparrow.  Aren't ye curious even about how in Tortuga you came to be?"

"Will the answer make a bit o sense?" Jack asked as Mallory listed a bit.  Mallory glared and straightened back up "This is **serious** Captain Jack Sparrow – you aren't just some casual by-blow such as I might sire if I wasn't being hounded.  The King of Avalon **loathes **humans.  I can't even in my wildest fancies imagine him taking anyone in a fit of passion.  Ye were born with a purpose in mind.  I haven't a bloody clue what it is but assured rest that when He realizes that yer mother didn't drowned ye like He thinks He'll be sending something unpleasant te fetch you to Avalon."

"I thought ye said ye didn't know me mother."

"I don't.  I was still in the oubliette when she died to keep you out of His hands.  You aren't born of some random human wench, Sparrow, you're a Rigion of Myrddin's line.  More than that you're the **last **of that blood line.  When I left for my Defod there were over a thousand Rigion now there's just one.  One Rigion heir, one Penthalion heir. I don't think the other Rigion's committed mass suicide and I don't think it's an accident that you're the last, Captain Jack Sparrow, I don't think that's an accident at all."  He caught Jack's eye and held it remarkably steadily for how badly he was swaying.

"Are ye saying I'm the King o England?"  Captain Jack Sparrow looked utterly flummoxed.

"Short of being captured by our darling papa I can't think of a thing that would make you more miserable but as the Ellyllon, the cyfae, and the Old Blood reckon it yes, you're the only acceptable heir to the British Isles.  Of course I think the current ruling family might have other ideas."

"King Jack Sparrow" Jack rolled it on his tongue with a grin.

"Damn it, Sparrow, pay attention.  Now you bloody know why I've never spoke of this before.  Get your daft head out of the clouds.  It's one thing when that lass without a drop of anything but English blood in her veins does it's another when you do.  Do you have any idea what it the butcher's bill would be to win that crown?  The **land** will acknowledge your Blood Right as would the scattered remnants of the Old Blood.  Because the land would recognize you those who live close to it, the peasant farmers, would give you their support without realizing why.  On the other hand the current elite, the artisans, the merchants, all of those who live at one step removed from the land will consider you a mad usurper.  At minimum you will lose one in four of your subjects in the resulting civil war.  That is of course providing that both the other European powers and the King of Avalon don't interfere – unlikely."  Mallory rose and stopped just short of the rail.

"If gaining fame is still your primary goal in life I can guarantee you'll be remembered.  Of course if you actually want to **wear ** that crown you would have to ally yourself with the King of Avalon.  Only with the backing to the cyfae could you hope to gain and **hold** London."

"And assuming that I like the ring o King Jack how do you propose I convince our father te back me?  Where's the profit in it for him?"

"Why, Sparrow, it's a matter of leverage."

"And what's me leverage?"

"Don't be coy.  I didn't raise a fool.  Offer me living to Him and you can name any terms you like and be paid in whatever coin you prefer."

**Historical Notes:  **With the exception of Mallory's presence Lady Jane Gray's execution is lifted straight from the pages of history.  History only knows the person who finally led her to the block as a mysterious stranger appearing from the spectators.   She was indeed flogged into submitting to both her marriage and the later consummation and her mother's location when her 'useless daughter' went to the block is also well known.

I've painted Philip with a blacker brush than is probably fair.  He did indeed demand Jane's head before he ever set foot in England for his wedding to Mary.  And until that moment Mary did in fact plan to eventually free Jane.  His negotiators did also ask for Elizabeth's head but never in any real seriousness – it was just a card on the table.  Philip knowing that Mary Queen of Scots was the most likely alternate heir to Elizabeth backed Bess.  I also find it unlikely that he would have given someone to the Inquisition **just** to gain a painting.  On the other hand, he was an avid collector of paintings and did come into possession of some after their owners ran afoul of the Inquisition.

The 68 year old Countess of Salisbury was executed by Henry the VIII for treason (or more accurately her son Reginald's 'treason').  She made a point of stating that she was no traitor and that if the headsman wanted her head he'd have to earn it and took off running but more about the Poles in another chapter…


	10. Opportume Moment II

**Author's Notes: Dragon Hunter **– Glad you liked it! There are a few more ghosts floating around in this part as well so no reading in the wee hours of the morning :).   On the whole eunuch thing if he didn't care about the possible consequences he could do what he liked (unfortunately for him he's got that quirky honorable streak because of Mannwan).  Keeping up with the writing has been getting progressively more difficult simply because I bought 12 acres about 6 weeks ago.  I got a great deal because the place is a mess but now I've got to clean up said mess.  So I'm working 40 hrs a week, moving/renovating/ and talking Dad into bring down the chipper and loader 25 hrs a week, and mostly writing between 3-5 AM when I can convince myself to get up that early.  All I can say is it's a good thing I write reasonably quickly….

**Falcon Wing:  **You're as quick as the bird you're named for.  Just out of curiosity – what kind of falcons do you have in New Zealand?  I'd only just posted, given the posted chapter a quick glance to make sure the formatting was correct, checked my email, and discovered I already had a review.  Wow!  Two of my eight bookcases are devoted to history and archaeology so a lot of this is already percolating in the back of my brain.  One of the things that is making this chapter so tough to write is that I'm in the midst of moving so 90% of my library is 40 miles away from my PC. :P

**Little Bird: **Please dare!! Because these are read by no one but me before they go up on the web I have no real way of knowing if I'm being clear or not.  And yes something like that probably would be Jack's response should he set foot in England J.   As to your guesses some of your answers were slated for later in this chapter or later chapters and some I worked in (please don't take Mallory's insult to Will as being one to you – it isn't.  Mallory's just tired and testy by that point).  And a few I'll answer here.  No, you are absolutely correct when Jack was born Auberon considered Mallory's fate pretty much sealed (literally) so using Jack to capture Mallory was the furthest thing from his mind – then (insert evil grin).  Since he still thinks Jack died on his first birthday the notion still hasn't entered his mind – yet.  And in Auberon's original plan Mallory and Jack didn't have a thing to do with each other (actually the two of them together just might be Auberon's worst nightmare) but both Mallory and Jack are quite good at upsetting other people's plans.  As to why Auberon wants Jack  – sorry later plot twist please stay tuned. 

Please see my comment to Falcon Wing on all the history floating around in the back of my head.  It's odd I can never remember where my keys are but I can remember that Henry the VIII liked eel pie and artichokes without looking it up.  And that Catherine Parr was married four times and fed her grey hounds milk and her parrots hempseeds.  Sometimes I really worry about that… 

El'lan is a complete and total butchery of Welsh/Cymry.  All of the words really exist (or are several words smashed together) in Welsh and are related to their translations but a.) I don't speak any Welsh and b.) even if I did I would want El'lan to be a little different, kind of like Italian and Spanish.  Similar enough you can tell they came from the same stock but no longer the same.   So I curl up with an English/Welsh dictionary and proceed to slaughter the Welsh language in a semi-good cause.  **My apologies to any poor Welsh folk who stumble across this for intentionally mutilating your language**.

The who and why of Jack Sparrow being 'Sparrow' will show up in a later chapter when someone finally successfully flinches Mallory's journal.

**Ebagvuli:** Thank you for the enthusiastic praise and for sticking with my rambling!!

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 9b: Opportune Moment II**

Jack just blinked before surging to his feet in affronted fury "Do ye actually think I'd sell ye for a bloody crown?"

Mallory began with an icy calm "You would hardly be the first younger brother to betray the elder for power.  And I think that I am a prisoner aboard this vessel.  If you think my suggestion that you might betray me is insulting than what is this?"  He put a hand to the rail only to be instantly met by the same white wall of energy from earlier.  He whirled and shoved the broken pieces of the carchar across the deck.  "Why don't you just have me repair it and punch a few air holes?  A year scrabbling in desperation against the same walls in the Citadel, a year forced to do things that even my less than stringent morality found deplorable, a year in the torture chamber, followed seventy-seven in a box and you dare to confine me in a prison of my own making?  How dare you turn what I created for your well being against me?"  He tossed back his head, green eyes blazing but there was something else hidden behind the anger – a trace of fear. 

Was Mallory **frightened **of Jack?  It couldn't be.  It must have just been my imagination  - after all peaking through one's eyelashes is hardly the best way to see clearly. 

"Drop it, luv" Jack said staring down into the carchar "I said DROP IT!"  He tried to push the carchar away but it didn't budge "I'm sorry."

"You should be" Mallory retorted, suddenly sounding enervated as all the fire seemed to drain out of him.  He sat on the rail with a heavy sigh.

"Where have ye been these last eight years?" Jack asked still giving the carchar wary glances.

"Here and there – mostly there" he replied distractedly as my own attention was torn between Mallory and several more ghostly figures that were moving around the deck.

 "I'd forgotten just how exasperating ye can be" it was Jack's turn to sigh.  Something moved off to my right but I ignored it.

"I've said more about myself tonight than I've said in all the other years of my life combined" he said in that same weary tone.

"Since ye mentioned it just how many is that exactly?" Jack all but leapt on the opening.

"I've died a 156 times with Jane" interesting that he dated his life that way "that makes me roughly six weeks short of 177.  Another six weeks and Mannwan would have been a very rich Ellyllon an he were still alive." He was born in either early April or late March of 1533 then.

Jack gave him a confused look "How's that, mate?"

"There's an old tradition of betting on how long an heir will last at his Defod." Now there was a mind boggler – in London it was high treason to speak of when a king would die when even when he was on his deathbed.  Obviously Ellyllon took public wagers on it.  "First there is the estimate of how long one **might** live – given that among us the length of life is directly tied to strength of enaid.  Two to three hundred for the ladwr, the peasants, four to six hundred for the lesser Houses of the nobility, and anywhere from six hundred to a thousand for House Penthalion.  Before our sire's fun and games it was conservatively estimated that should I live to die of age in my bed it would be somewhat beyond 1200.  But I am a Nimrais and no a Nimrais has ever lasted past their 176th year, most never see 160.  Mannwan, and Mannwan, alone bet that I would.  Hell, he bet that I'd beat the odds and die in my bed."

"Rather sounds like he believed in you."

"And we both saw what his reward was.  Blind fool."

"So what happens to the 'a Nimrais'?"

Mallory shrugged "No one knows.  All of them have died, alone, during their Taithes.  No bodies have ever been found.  There has never been a surviving witness."

Jack gestured to the harp resting under Elizabeth's hand "What about her?"

Mallory shook his head "She was closely questioned about Taliesin.  She knows nothing.  She'd already been broken ere the end came."

"Speaking o questioning – shouldn't ye be asking some o her?"

Mallory shook his head "Her mental state is fragile enough without me pressing her.  **If **she knows something I'll wait until she's ready."

I could hear Jack's teeth grinding "And if ye die while yer being a gentleman?"

"She may very well **know** nothing.  It is an **assumption **on my part that she might.  She would hardly be the only priceless work of art to be smashed by Him.  Only a Penthalion could restore her.  Puck may have sent her to me for no other reason.  His love of music is well known.  Now Mr. Not Cotton is another matter.  He was sent for a reason and by more than just Puck."  He shook his head "But I find that I'm in no mood to play Puck's games tonight.  There was a time that a mardeth couldn't have stopped me from solving a riddle."  He caught Jack's eye.   "You do realize that if that you're in terrible danger if you don't betray me?  The aberath from the Dominant has faded to almost nothing and you can't hide in my shadow much longer even if I survive"

"What's this if?" Jack interrupted, eyes narrowed.

"I'm fighting a one Ellyllon war against nasty odds, Sparrow, death has always been only half a step behind.   Now, as I said earlier – you're coming into your own strength.  As an adhil you're never going to rival me in raw power but your gifts are different enough that no one is ever going to be able to confuse us.   When you were a child the song of your Blood was quiet enough that the song of mine could drown it out.  My presence, the Pearl, the Sea, and your ignorance kept you as safe as physically possible.  But you're no longer a child and if He doesn't know already it won't be much longer.  Sea may not be best pleased with you but She's sworn you the same protection She grants me, no matter my fate.  The Pearl was built to withstand nearly anything that can be magically thrown at her.  But you're every bit as vulnerable on land as I am – maybe more.  Be careful, because death is the most merciful thing you can expect.  Some of those things I insisted you learn didn't work because you lacked the strength to put behind them not because you did them wrong.  That will also have changed."

He paused seeming to search for words or just collecting his thoughts.  He was still slurring a bit but those clearer tones of his were starting to break through.

"Addarto ap Aub" Jack began but Mallory made one of his lightening fast moves and cut him off with a hand over his mouth.

"Don't say it.  Names do have power.  Don't reestablish a link your mother died to sever." 

Jack nodded and Mallory stepped back.

"Is that why ye don't like te say it?"

"It doesn't matter when I declare him my sire.  Well, it did for the first year or so after the aberath on the Dominant since I was actually declared and believed to be dead for a little while but He **knows** I'm alive.  I don't think He **knows** yet about you."  Mallory wrapped a hand around Jack's lapels "And don't you **dare** give that up an instant before you have to.  Your mother died for it and I let that sadistic little prick on the Dominant strip the meat off my back and take me within a few shallow breaths of death to buy you a little more time.  Your anonymity was bought with some damnably dear coin.  Do **not** squander it."

"I hear ye."

"But are you **listening**, I wonder?"  Mallory let go of Jack's coat and sat back on the rail.  He paused for a moment and watched another execution up on the quarter deck "I **really **hate when friends insist I stand idly by while they get themselves killed." He flashed a reproachful glance at Jack.

"I take it ye were there that day in Port Royal" Jack ventured.

"I've been there every time you've gotten yourself on the gallows except in the Azores since I wasn't in any shape to fly that far so soon after the Dominant.  All you have ever had to do was whistle."

"I'm sorry" Jack flushed again and then put his hands together "I'm giving ye permission here and now any time ye feel inclined te rescue me feel free."  He studied his nails "I must have driven ye half mad."

Mallory canted his head "When you end up on the gallows – I love you in spite of the fact that you're a daft idiot but most of the time, little brother, I love you because you're a daft idiot."

"But all the trouble I caused, all the times you had te save me from me fool self" Jack began.

"Did you ever hear me complain?  Besides in your own way you saved me too."  He closed his eyes "'Shouldn't be able te string three words together in a sensible order'" he said in Gibbs' voice.  "There are days when I can't.  Damaged goods, Sparrow."

"What are ye saying?" Jack asked nervously when the silence stretched long.

"You always called me mad and you used my belief in the Ellyllon as an excuse because you didn't know what name or reason to put on the truth."  It was Mallory's turn to stare at the carchar "Fear not that which can destroy the body but that which devours the soul, in a word difaenaid, soul eaters if you prefer it in English.  After the first twenty years in the carchar He realized that I wasn't going to yield so I started to get…visitors.  Some cyfae have no physical form, at least not as humans understand it.  No way out, no where to go, but I fought them anyway.  That's when the real damage was done – the damage I can't fix because I'm missing nearly a third of the pieces, nearly a third of my soul.  Things –shift.  Some days I'm nearly who I once was, some days nearly everything works, even Earth, and some days just remembering how to speak is a trial. Sometimes it's an act of courage just to live.  I was never a berserker before.  Sometimes I look around and wonder what the hell I've been doing and why.  If I ever was safe or stable before – debatable - I'm not now.  I know I said I'd stay but it really is for the best if I leave.  The more 'magic' I do the more likely things are to shift in directions I can't predict.  It's safer if I go." 

"I'm going te bloody kill Him" Jack spat.

Mallory's head snapped up towards Jack "Stay **out** of this Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I can't get any bloody further into this" Jack spat back "I'm not a bloody child anymore. I"

Mallory dropped off the rail and knelt at Jack's feet "**Please**" he begged far more abjectly than he had of Jane. "Please stay out of this.  Death has only left one thing I ever loved still breathing and the thought of what He'd do to you…" His voice and tone had become abruptly desperate and nearly broken.  "Captain Jack Sparrow you may be my little brother but you're the closest thing to a son I'm ever going to get and I want you free.  I carved the Pearl's figurehead the way I did for a reason.  She is my gift to uphold you in flight.  She's your freedom.  She was always more that a deck, a hull, and sails.  Grant me that no matter what may happen to me that I won at least one of us free.   Live free, die free, Jack, please."

Jack pulled Mallory back to his feet "Do ye even want te be King o Avalon? Or do ye want te be free yerself?"

"It's irrelevant, for me to deny my Blood Right would cause more deaths than you claiming yours.  There isn't an acceptable alternate heir."

"It isn't irrelevant" Jack rebutted "Do ye want te be King?"

"It isn't your concern."

"Just answer the question."

"Yes, I've read the records.  I've talked to the cyfae that are old enough to remember.  All those legends of the merry otherworld – it really existed once upon a time.  And hell be damn sure I'd like to be the one to usher in another golden age and I might just be powerful enough to do it.  And I know my faults after seventy-seven years with myself I ought to.  I'm not greedy – all the money in the world could not begin to buy me but I have no lack of pride.  Being Avalon's hero in truth is damn tempting.  But I can't deny there's a piece of me that would dearly love nothing more than to sail the Sea on the Peregrine til the day I die.  If it hadn't been for Jane I'd have never set foot back in the European courts.  But I don't get a choice, Jack Sparrow. And I'm also a Nimrais.  I've been playing a long time against a stacked deck and I'm not going to win.  So please grant me on the day that I finally zig when I should have zagged that you at least had a choice and picked your own road."

"Ye keep bloody zagging" was Jack's answer as he shook Mallory just a little for emphasis.  He frowned "Just how **did** I end up in Tortuga?"

 "The tale I got from Wind, Sea, and Peregrine is a bit garbled.  I originally thought that was because I was more than a bit garbled myself when I first heard it."  He studied Jack for a moment before sidling free of Jack's hands. "You know that was the one and only time I've ever gotten to dress Peregrine down?" That almost got a smile, almost. "Peregrine is linked to me the same way Pearl is to you and while he didn't know the details of my situation he did know I was a very unhappy Ellyllon.  I designed all three ships I built to hear and speak to Wind and Sea.  Peregrine informed Wind and Sea of what little he knew and the three of them were determined to do what they could for me.  Wind and Sea both knew I'd have to be brought out of the Citadel for my Oed but none of them knew **when** that would be.   So they were waiting for the opportune moment when your mother made her plea. Myrddin's line was rife with Wind talkers.  You know if you ever put your mind to it I think you'd actually be better with air than I am.   Your mother bespoke Wind in her desperation and despair and Wind told Peregrine of your existence.  Peregrine convinced Sea that I would want you and the four of them hatched a plot to get you out of London and away from Him.  The only fly in the proverbial ointment being no one knew when my Oed would be so they weren't terribly picky about where or with whom they left you.   They found a 'lady' of questionable repute who was almost as desperate to leave London as your mother was to get you out.  Tortuga was her chosen destination.  The accord was that she would take care of you until either you were grown or I arrived.  That's the short version there's a good bit more to it but half of it doesn't make much sense."

Jack frowned "I don't think I remember her."

"You wouldn't, she abandoned you less than a year later leaving you to live on the scraps of Tortuga's excesses on your own for over four years.  I was bloody furious when I found out. If she wasn't already dead by then she'd have been wishing she was.  I chewed poor Peregrine up one side and down the other, it didn't help the Peregrine was trying to keep me on board the day we met either.  You'd have died that day if I'd listened to 'Grine and done the sensible thing."  He shivered "You came so damn close so many times."

Jack's brow furrowed "Ye saved me from Morgan and ye healed me from Harry – that's only two."

"The shop keeper on the corner you had a penchant for stealing bread from tried to shoot you.  I made his gun misfire.  Then you dashed across the street just as that pack of young rowdies came charging down it so I made their horses swerve before they trampled you.  I caught up to you but then I had to knock you out of the way when that baud dumped a sailor over the rail and into the street and you were off like a bullet. " 

"But all that was hours afore I stole Morgan's purse" Jack protested "why didn't ye catch me earlier?"

"Because I could hardly walk, Sparrow.  I'd been out of the oubliette a bare seven-day.  I couldn't keep up with you.  If Mannwan had seen that fight with Morgan and his men he'd have boxed my ears and had me at drill for a month.  If it wasn't for the Wind and the Blood in your veins I'd never have even been able to keep you in sight or to thwart the three times you almost got killed after Morgan and before Harry."

Jack looked at Mallory in surprise "Only a week?"

Mallory nodded "I'd love to say that I made a bold and daring escape from the court complete with witty retorts, bold swashbuckling, and a jaunty wave.  The truth is somewhat different.  The point of the difaenaids' attacks wasn't to lacerate my abilities that was just collateral damage.  It was to render me mindless.  What our darling papa wanted was an empty shell with all that power at his finger tips and no will left to oppose him ever again.  They came too damn close.  By the time tradition dictated that I be pulled out for the Oed I was clinging to the tattered remnants of myself with my fingernails.  I was placed under a Gorchymyn to say nothing but the words of the ceremony, stuffed into my coronation garb, and quite literally carried wit wandering back into the light.  When Wind was invoked during the ceremony he whispered that Sea and Peregrine awaited only my word to come.  Sea can't cross the Atalfa without the invitation of House Penthalion.  I'd been bound to say nothing but the words of the ceremony.  But there was nothing said that they had to be in the correct order.  I garbled them into something that could generously be interpreted as an invitation and Sea came in fury.   Peregrine had long known something was amiss but none of them were prepared for the state I was in.  They decided the best possible thing was to put as much distance between me and Avalon as quickly as possible.  My response to being rescued mostly consisted of curling up on Peregrine's decking and trying to convince my long unused senses that  every breath of Wind wasn't an assault,  that every shaft of light wasn't blindingly brilliant, that the touch of the sun wasn't really roasting me alive, that the slightest whisper from Peregrine or the Sea wasn't a scream.  I was fairly oblivious when we docked in Tortuga because I had another far more serious problem.  The tattered pieces of my enaid wouldn't hold together no matter how hard I tried.  I'd patch something together, surface for a few minutes, and then everything would shiver back apart again leaving me lost in a dark far quieter and blacker than any oubliette.  But something had been tugging at me, distracting me even back in Avalon and the closer we came to Tortuga the stronger it got.  So next time I fought my way back into reality I decided to go looking for what it was.  The term shambling wreckage rather comes to mind which is why 'Grine was so desperate to keep me aboard ship.  I didn't have a clue what I was looking for, they'd been in such a dither that none of them had thought to tell me you existed. Or if they had it certainly hadn't registered.  I'm not even sure I really had a clue what I was doing as I lurched through the streets of Tortuga.  And then I spotted you" Again that brief unshadowed smile despite the situation he'd just described.  "I hadn't a clue who you were or where you came from but hell be damned if I was going to let you come to harm.  And then you got yourself all but gutted in spite of my best efforts.  But Healing you gave me the key.  The difaenaid had been ordered to leave my Healing abilities completely alone since they were all that was keeping me alive at that point.  That left me a stable core to build on, things still shift but they don't fall completely apart much anymore."    

Jack pulled a bottle out of the cask and drank freely before offering it to Mallory who shook his head "I've already had more than is wise.  Just as I've done more than is wise in a single day on several levels"

"Can ye be healed?" was Jack's stricken question.

Mallory shrugged "I certainly put the pieces I wrest back from the difaenaid that was sent after me in Tortuga to good use.  So I suppose if I could get them all back I could theoretically restore my enaid.  You know until I destroyed that one they were considered true Immortals?  No one, not even a Draig had ever won against a difaenaid.  Just me, the resident anomaly. They can be commanded though. Our darling papa has them under Gorchymyns not to finish consuming the pieces since I think the original intent was for them to enter through my weakest link – my Earth Mastery - and then when the core of my identity was annihilated to restore the Earth Mastery. I was actually good at Earth once – not the way I am with Wind, Sea, and Fire, but still better than most.  The only problem" he shook his head continuing in that same weary tone "is that the King of Avalon is keeping the other five damn close.  I've got a snowflake's chance in hell of prizing anything loose from them without getting recaptured myself.  And should I actually start to win I'm certain he'll allow them to finish devouring the pieces they retain.  So can I be? – Probably.  Will I be? – Not bloody likely.  I use to turn heads you know."

"What?"

"You've Ellyllon ears, Sparrow, but not Ellyllon eyes – we don't just see bodies we see enaids.  When I showed up for my Defod Ellyllon and cyfae alike walked into walls ogling, peasants lined the streets to catch a glimpse – and not merely because I was the Penthalion heir.  According to the cyfae I was once not merely the most powerful but the fairest Ellyllon ever born.  I see it in the eyes of those the King sends to face me – I have become a horror, a freak show horror.  I'm not the one making fatal hesitations.  Bledri cursed, Mannwan wept, Argellion couldn't even speak.  It mostly works but it isn't pretty."  His eyes flickered to man who appeared to be being literally ripped apart.  Mallory flinched the bottle from Jack and took a long drink "Sorry, Gaspard."

"Who was he?" Jack winced and turned his head as things got even uglier.  I closed my eyes.

"Admiral Gaspard de Coligny, I arrived just in time to see him die.  He was one of my staunchest Huguenot allies.  I was so busy in the Netherlands and so confident things were proceeding as well as could be expected in Paris that I never saw it coming.  Completely, utterly, and totally blindsided by the Guises.  Never should have happened.  The streets ran with blood that night,  August 24, 1572, St. Bartholomew's Day." His voice had dropped to little more than a whisper eyes wide and far away.  "My fault, 10,314 dead by the time it was all over three months later.  Of course you could say that all of the French Wars of Religion were my fault. After all I'm the one that assassinated Henry the II on the joust field.  Threatened him that if he allied himself with Pustule against Bess that I'd kill him in front of his whole court.  And I did.  I put a lance in his throat and then convinced everyone even him as he lay dying that it was all a terrible accident."  He studied the carchar "Seventy-seven years is a long time to spend with nothing but yourself and the occasional soul eater for company.  Not much for conversation soul eaters – oddly enough I think I resent that almost as much as what they did to me.  Could have at least been sociable.   Would have been nice to have had **someone** to talk to.   A bloody long time.  It's even longer when you discover that you don't actually like yourself terribly much."  He rolled the bottle he'd claimed from Jack in his hands "I did try to be someone a bit better this time."  He looked at Jack "And I tried to raise you to be something I'm not – a good man."

Jack claimed the bottle back "I was raised by a good man, Ellyllon, whatever."

"No – I'm just a very good actor."  He reclaimed the bottle, threw back his head, and took another drink.

"Now, ye listen here, Ari"

"Do **not** call me that" Mallory cut him off.

"Why not?  It is yer name."

"I could say because it's a **girl's** name but that isn't what bothers my about it.  It's that fact that it's stolen."

For the first time tonight Jack looked at Mallory like he was daft "How can ye steal a name?"

Mallory let out a bitter bark "Mallory is the only name I've ever taken that wasn't stolen, Sparrow.  I had a sister who all of an hour my elder.  The caeth midwife announced the birth of a daughter but kept my subsequent birth a secret. Since our father couldn't be bothered to name her our grandsire named her Ariel."  He leaned his head against my palette and went silent.

Jack picked himself another bottle out of the cask to replace the one Mallory had taken from him and then asked "What is a caeth?"

"It means slave.  Humans either stolen or bartered from the Outlands and forced to perform various tasks either for the sheer amusement of the court or like the midwife forced to do those takes at which the Ellyllon are less than ideal."

"Are ye alright?" Jack asked while I thought about all those tales of Changelings and the folk wisdom that fairies leave their children for humans to raise because they themselves make terrible mothers.

"I'm fine" he breathed "Just weary."

Jack started to rise "I'll let ye sleep."

"Don't go" he straightened back up so quickly he was halfway to his feet.  "That's why the Alltude thought poor Mr. Not Cotton might have any chance at all, because our sire orders humans stolen all the time for him to 'play' with." He took another drink the slur was becoming more pronounced again "So the caeth midwife took the two of us to raise for the year and a day before the angheuol."

"But why do humans raise Ellyllon children?" Jack asked as the silence began to stretch again.

"We were humans but we got more than just the Power of the Draigs – we got some of their attributes as well and Draig females ate their young if they could catch them.  In the ladwr the Blood is diluted enough that they raise their own children.  It wouldn't surprise me at all if the lesser Houses could do so as well but that would mean admitting that they're of lesser stock so they import human women as well.  House Penthalion is another matter entirely.  Generally females of my House do not see the children that survive the angheuol again until after the Oed, for safety's sake."

Jack went pale "But ye told Lizzy ye learned to cook from yer mother."

"I did.  I just neglected to mention that she was eyeing me up to be part of the main course at the time.  I've never been quite sure if she simply liked onion soup and arugula salads in general or if she thought they'd compliment me well."  He shrugged with what at least appeared to be genuine nonchalance "but that's immaterial.  The angheuol is both a place and a ceremony that is **supposed **to last a seven day.  The child is placed in the maze of the angheuol with all its traps and blind corners.  The mother is released at another point and the hunt begins.  The father can enter the maze at any point or any time and may interfere in any way he sees fit providing he does not remove the child from the angheuol before the evening of the seventh day.  By removing his child the father spreads his mantle of protection over it, takes responsibility for it, and declares it suitable for society.  To the best of my knowledge our sire has never entered the angheuol since his own trial in spite of the fact the records claim that he and Queen Tintigalia had over a dozen children.  When a father refuses to enter the angheuol the hunt is allowed to continue to its inevitable conclusion."

"Yer own mother?" Jack sounded as horrified as I felt.

"No, not Tintigalia, she hunted us but it was Eiluned that, that" He tripped over the words stuttering slightly "It was Eiluned."  He rose and went to the rail "Our darling papa was taking no chances.  He let all three of his wives join in the fun.  Meleri didn't bother with us at all.  I always liked Meleri, despite the fact that she was mad.  Eiluned was mad too.  It was just the kind of mad that requires chains, bars, cells, locks, sigils, and a round the clock guard for the sake of everyone else's safety.  We'd been in the maze about six months when Ariel fell into one of the pit traps.  I got her back out but Eiluned must have heard us and Ariel had broken an ankle in the fall.  I didn't know then" He looked up at Jack with too wide, pleading eyes "I didn't know I could heal.   No one ever had to teach me illusions – I'm a natural at Shadows.  That's how we'd lasted so long already but it didn't work that time.  Maybe I was too panicked, maybe she was too mad or too close to be deceived but she snatched Ariel from me.  I tried to pull Ariel free but I couldn't" He gripped the bottle so hard it shattered scattering glass across the deck and sending the remaining absinthe discolored Merlot splattering onto the Pearl's dark boards.  He curled his hand into a fist and murmured shakily "Then I ran.  She called for me but I never looked back.  I left her.  I left her to Eiluned and ran."  He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.  If Jack said one word about any man who falls behind is left behind I was going to kick him.  The Merlot dripping off his hand looked eerily like blood "I wasn't abandoning you in Tortuga.  I WASN'T" he was nearly shouting, breathlessly desperate "I ran to draw the mardeth and the difaenaid **away** from you.  The Cynfyd is the last place I would have chosen to face them but I wanted them away from you.  I didn't mean to leave you alone with Barbossa, I didn't.  And then when I first emerged all I could hear was Pearl weeping and I couldn't hear you.  I thought I'd lost you anyway.  They'd hurt you so badly that the Song of your Blood had dropped to the faintest of whispers.  And then when I did find you I couldn't reach you.  I tried and I tried and they were still hurting you.  I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I"

"It's alright" it was suddenly Jack's turn to soothe "**I'm** alright."  He caught Mallory's balled fist.  He flinched but Jack's grip held. 

"If it was anyone's fault, brother, it wasn't yers and I was the one who left ye high and dry."  He was trying to uncurl Mallory's clenched fist without much luck.

"It was so tempting" Mallory whispered in a breathy, nearly hyperventilating slur "To try to wrap you in cotton and hide you on a shelf where nothing could ever harm you but hated that you have would."

"Aye, I would've" Jack agreed while still trying loosen Mallory's fingers.  The Merlot was still dripping…it wasn't Merlot.  He must have a piece of the bottle still clenched in his fist. 

"I'm sorry I didn't confide in you sooner.  I was planning to do it after I gave you the Pearl on the twenty-first anniversary of your birth, after you'd made your decision.  I'm sorry, I really am, I"

Jack gave him a cheeky grin "All's well that ends well right?  I've got the Pearl back and I did a sight o much need growing up."  He finally managed to prize Mallory's fingers open.  Several bloody pieces of glass joined the rest on the deck.  "Nasty cut.  Looks like ye severed some tendons there" he gestured trying with limited success to get Mallory to focus on his bleeding hand.  "I thought ye musicians were supposed to take better care of yer hands."

"I'm not a musician" Mallory protested faintly as he glanced down seeming to notice the mess he'd made of his hand for the first time. 

"Ye were doing a damn fine imitation o one a bell ago."

"Exactly" he sounded much less panicked and shaky as he ran his left hand across his wounded right.  "The truth is, Sparrow, I the raw talent have to be a virtuo, a fine musician.  Not Taliesin great but still very good.  Problem is I don't give a tinker's damn.  It wouldn't bother me a bit if I never played another bloody note."  He flexed his fingers "I wish sometimes I could peel it away from the rest of me and give it to someone who truly it would appreciate.  With me languish it does.  A real musician lives and breaths music, Sparrow, and that's who should have a talent like mine.  Someone who would enough care to burnish it until it was rad-i-ant." If the conversation itself hadn't been so disheartening it would have been almost funny the way he would periodically hit words that he just couldn't seem to spit out half drunk.  He held the hand out over the rail and a wave rose and washed it clean.

He laid it briefly against Jack's chest leaving a damp handprint behind on his (mostly) white shirt.

"There, good as new.  Pity the inside doesn't heal that easily."  He took a long deep breath "With Ariel dead the"

"Ye don't have te finish.  If ye didn't want te be called Ariel all ye really had te do was ask."

There was a flash of gratitude in those green eyes and then a more thoughtful look "I think perhaps I should, besides I've already said the worst.  With Ariel dead the angheuol was officially over.   Tintigalia and Meleri left the maze but Eiluned had seen me.  She knew I was still in there and she refused to leave.  Since there's plenty of food and water to be had and you can't get out once the maze is sealed they just locked her in – with me.  But as the weeks turned into months and the months turned into a year our grandsire began to suspect that more than her madness kept her hunting.  He had a minor seeing gift and he'd been rather surprised at the announcement of a girl since he had Seen a boy that would survive.  So to test those suspicions he announced that he would be forcibly removing his daughter"

"Don't ye mean daughter-in-law?" Jack inquired politely.

"I told you the day we met, Sparrow, that the Blood is far too blue.  The Blood is the source of House Penthalion's power, in an effort to make sure that our Blood is not diluted nor our Power shared House Penthalion marries incestuously.  I am the product of three consecutive generations of brother-sister pairings and a daunting number of cousin crosses before that.  In one sense it has worked beautifully with the exception of our throwback father every generation has become more powerful.  Hell, I'm more powerful than our sire, Meleri, and Tintigalia combined and I still haven't quite reached my full potential.  But we've also paid the price in a recent exponential increase in mental instability of which Meleri and Eiluned were rather spectacular examples."

'Great plan' I thought sarcastically 'just intentionally breed unbelievably powerful nut cases.'  I could feel my own gaze focus on Mallory as I peeked through my lashes and I wondered for the first time just how firm a grasp he really had on his own sanity – if anyone had a right to go Bedlam mad it was the poor soul in front of Jack.

"Anyway he took a half dozen of his most trusted and talented courtiers to assist.  Given Eiluned's power there was nothing unusual in taking so many to subdue her but he also had Mannwan bring his Cwn Annun." Mallory glanced up at Jack "I really, really hate, loath, and detes, otherwise don't like very much dogs."

Jack blinked "I never would have guessed." 

Neither would I – he'd never been cruel to the dog when we were building the cells though, come to think of it, he'd never been terribly happy that it was there either. 

"Do you have any idea how many of those vermin ridden, sneaky, conniving, always sticking their noses in where they're not wanted beasts there were at court?"

Jack just arched a brow clearly not quite sure whether to let the diatribe continue or to pull him back to the subject of Ariel – personally I was all for letting him ramble in this case.

Mallory continued with exaggerated seriousness "I don't like dogs.  Did you know it's actually harder as a Changeling to deciv, fool a man's dog than his wife?"

"Really?" Jack asked as he started to pull the second to last bottle out of the cask.  He was abruptly blinking at his empty hands as Mallory made one of those lightening fast moves of his and snatched it before either Jack or I had even registered the movement.  

"Most def-i-nit-ely" he glanced over at the Countess who was back for the fourth?, fifth? time.  "Oh, enough already, it **worked**, brilliantly, beautifully, and I kept my bloody promise, safe and sound.  At least managed to save someone."  He pulled the cork out of the bottle but it slipped through his fingers and went bouncing across the deck.  He followed it with his eyes even bobbing his head a little at each bounce until it rolled through the foot of an Ellyllon who lay on the deck.  Golden hair and eyes the color of the cloudless Caribbean sky, I didn't need to hear Mallory's whispered "Maddewch I mi" to know I was looking at Mannwan.   He reached up and clasped hands with what had to be Mallory.  Adoration – his eyes shone with it even as the light faded out of them and his life ebbed away.  My God, Mallory was a healer – he could have, but he didn't - because of the Gorchymyn.  I wondered if that was the real reason for that persistent plea for forgiveness because it was crystal clear in Mannwan's eyes that he'd never blamed Mallory and that all was forgiven.  It was Mallory alone that condemned Mallory.

"You know he carried the scars of my teeth until the day I killed him" he said quietly before raising the bottle in a salute and taking a hefty drink.  His eyes went completely glazed and I really thought he was going to pass out.  He did list back onto his elbows with his eyes blinking too slowly, unseeingly, up at the stars and the Pearl's black sails until long after Mannwan's ghost had faded.  "Good I need some help moving the body" he finally said slurring so badly it was hard to even make out the words.  Since Mallory was more or less oblivious Jack shot me a questioning glance.  I covered a shrug with one of those slight shifts sleepers make – if Jack was at loss how was I to know how to answer?

"I think the bodies are all just fine where they are for now" Jack finally offered.

I swear you could hear Mallory's eyes rolling in his voice.

"I don't mean **now**, Sparrow, that far I not gone am."  He paused and frowned as he shoved himself back into a semi-upright position "Or maybe I am.  Those were my first words to Mannwan.  He's the one that finally managed to catch me in the angheuol.  Him and his blasted red-eared hounds.  I hate dogs.  Fer-al, I was completely fer-al by then and I knew what happened if caught you were.  Don't get caught.  I ought to make that my personal motto seems like I've spent most of my life living by it.  Chewed the hell out of his arm but he wouldn't let go." He buried his head against his knees and I felt a surge of hate of my own against the King of Avalon blacker than anything I'd ever felt against pirates.  "When I was nine he was sent to be my Master of Sword.  He presented himself to me, made a grand flowery speech about how he was at my service to which I replied 'good I need some help moving the body'." A flicker of a grin, "You should have seen the look on his face.  Whatever he expected to do upon his second meeting with his stripling prince it wasn't a con-vo-lut-ed prison break.  Always wondered what he thought of that – what he thought of me."  For just an instant I wanted to shake him and ask 'didn't you look? Didn't you see?' but would I have wanted to see that look of trust and faith in the eyes of someone I'd chosen – for what ever valid reason – to let die? And to kill? Or would I have preferred to convince myself that I didn't know?  To push that knowledge away?  Damn the King of Avalon!  Sick, twisted – forget Jack, forget Mallory –** I** was going to kill him. 

Mallory was still talking to his knees "That was first time I ever broke anyone out of prison."

Jack made a point of making eye contact with Mallory (no easy task at the moment) before giving him a devil may care grin "But not the last."

That at least got a flicker of amusement "Decidedly not, ought to list prison breaker extraordinaire as a profession.  I didn't need **that **much practice."  He glanced at the carchar and that brief moment of better humor withered and died. 

"I didn't want to kill him" he whispered to no one in particular but Jack answered anyway "I know, he knew."

"Doesn't matter. Ashes.  Ashes and dust in the Wind."  He set the bottle down with the exaggerated care of a man so drunk he's no longer quite sure where exactly solid ground is and blinked at Jack "I should go.  I really, truly should."

Jack caught his arm as he started to rise "Now, I haven't seen ye in thirteen years and ye haven't even asked what I've been up to.  I haven't had a chance to tell ye any o me stories."  I found myself mesmerized by Jack fluttering hands.  "Ye just sit back down and we'll do a bit o catching up."

Mallory canted his head "But I know what you've done, Jack.  Wind's a terrible tattler.  You **ordered** me not to follow, not to assist Pearl, and to stay out of your life but you never said I couldn't keep tract of you."  **That** hadn't been my imagination for just an instant there had been a flicker of fear.  Why on earth would Mallory fear _Jack?_  It certainly couldn't be his fencing skills – Mallory could probably handle Jack, Commodore Norrington, and I together without breaking a sweat. 

Jack popped to his feet, blithely unaware of what had flashed through Mallory's eyes "I'm starved, what say ye we head down te the galley and ye can whip together a midnight snack?"

"It's less than an hour til dawn" Mallory retorted distractedly as he watched another ghost ride across the deck. 

"Even better" Jack replied brightly while very determinedly ignoring the woman dying to his left.  "We can have breakfast.  Just like the old days.  Aren't you hungry?"

"No" Mallory was still watching the ghost of an older man in what I thought was very fine Spanish dress who'd caught his attention  "Not in almost three score years.  Not since the difaenaid started breaching into my inner enaid.  Only good thing about it – at least I didn't spend the last thirty years in the carchar starving the way I had the first two score and four." 

Jack grasped Mallory's wrist trying to distract him from the Spanish ghost who was still riding hell for leather without actually moving across the deck.  He must have been riding through a wooded area because he kept ducking what I assumed where tree branches.  "I **know** ye're not always this thin so ye must eat. Ye must **need **te eat."

"Sometimes, when it occurs to me" Mallory still hadn't spared him a glance since the Spaniard began his ride. 

"Well it's occurred te **me**.  So let's say we remove ourselves te the galley."

Mallory flinched at the pistol shot that shattered the relative quiet on the deck.

"Please tell me yer not going te bloody die again."

"No, but I should have – that shot was meant for me" the Spaniard had vanished in the same instant as the shot.  He must have died instantly.  "He died for me.  No shortage of people have died because of me but no one else has ever died for me."  He shook his head "It shouldn't have happened.  My fault.  Damn it Sandro, I didn't ask you to die for me."

Jack looked stunned "Ye said earlier ye were keeping the Armada from Sandro's army.  That was Alessandro Farnese, the Prince of Parma?  The greatest general of his age?  He was Philip's nephew how in the world did he end up?" Jack just waved to where Sandro had vanished near Marty's blissfully snoring head.

"It's – complicated.  I froze – the first time in my whole life.  Just never thought he'd actually pull the trigger.  Didn't think he'd turn the whole French army on my either."  Mallory's eyes were still boring holes in the decking next to Marty's head. "I was still far too wounded to fly.  And they shot my horse.  I really liked that horse.  Beautiful animal.  And more damn dogs.  I really hate dogs."

"Yes, I believe ye've mentioned that.  Who was trying te shoot ye?"

"Henri Bourbon, King of France."

"As in the guy who gave ye the cetera? As in friends for over twenty years?  As in ye won him a kingdom and kept him alive, Henri?"

Mallory just nodded.

"So yer enemy died saving ye from yer friend?"

"I did mention that it was complicated" he frowned slightly "didn't I?"

"So ye did – why don't ye tell me all about it over breakfast?  Never did like te eat by me onesies."

Mallory shook his head "Not now, Sparrow, not tonight."  Mallory dropped back onto the deck and picked up the cetera from where he'd left it earlier. 

Jack dropped back down opposite him "Why?"

"He didn't care for my ears" he began to play something light and lilting which didn't seem to fit his mood or the situation at all.  "Called me a demon and offered a title and estate to anyone who could bring him my pointy 'devil' ears."

Jack sighed "Didn't anything ever go right for ye?"

Mallory shrugged without missing a note – pretty impressive for being drunk "Plenty of things.  I should go."  He looked up at Jack head canted still playing.

Jack ignored the unasked question in favor of one of his own "Just where were ye when I finally saw fit te do what I should have done years ago?"

He laid the cetera across his lap "Exploring the career op-por-tun-i-ties of becoming a structural element of a sand dune."

"Sounds fasc-i-nat-ing." Jack replied sarcastically "I can certainly see why ye're in such an all-fired hurry te get back te it."

"Don't knock it.  Sand is very undemanding. It doesn't ask for the impossible and then when you actually manage to deliver turn around and ask for something even harder.  It doesn't kill.  It doesn't die.  Does tend to itch a bit but nothing's perfect."

"Doesn't that make you a stationary target though?"

"The Cynfyd's quieter than a graveyard right now.  Nothing's stirred out of Avalon since I slaughtered the last Wild Hunt over four years ago.  I'd love to think our darling papa has forgotten but he's undoubtedly just wracking his twisted brain for something suitably nasty.  Or waiting for the opportune moment to spring something unpleasant.  He gave me her name." He picked the bottle back up started to take a drink, stopped, and put it back down.  "I didn't exist in the records so when I was called for my Defod instead of going back and acknowledging the existence of a pair of twins and giving me a different name he just had them change the mer for daughter to mab for son.  Much more efficient and in a few pen strokes our sister officially ceased to exist.  In our silver-eyed sister's brief life all she ever had to call her own was a name – how can I take that from her?  She at least deserves to be remembered if naught else."

"Then we'll remember her" Jack offered "Te Ariel, a bonny lass with a rotten father and two absolutely wonderful brothers."

Mallory took another drink, swayed, recovered, and look up at Jack.  "Names, sharing names, I going was to say something about names."

"Where ye now?" Jack asked sounding amused.  "Brother we have **got** to get ye drunk more often."

"Don't distract me.  Ah, yes, sharing your name with Anna-'ria.   You do of course realize that Marie is going to expect you to do the hon-or-able thing when get you to Cap Francois."

"When **we **get to Cap Francois" Jack corrected "And what is it with ye and the bloody match making?"

"'S a hobby.  Have one should everyone.  More benign than some I can think of."  He caught Jack's eye and said carefully "Are you going to deny a dying woman her last wish?"  

"She's too tough te die" Jack scoffed "I'm more likely te be wed at pistol point."

Mallory just gave Jack a severe glance.

"I'll think on it" Jack allowed.

"Daft idiot" Mallory slurred "Girl's been in love with yet since afore she could walk.  It was you she was going after when she ran off with Breha."

Jack blanched "With **Breha**?  Good God what was she **thinking**."

"If she was you I'd say she was thinking with the wrong end o her spine but I'll be slightly more gentlemanly and say she was thinking with her heart.  And the doxies in Tortuga have been pining for and cursing you ever since you laid eyes on her again.  Is a ring and a vow really that terrifying?"  

"Yes" Jack replied snippily.  His gaze flickered over and away from what looked like a torture session on the quarter deck.  I made another slight shift to get it out of my own line of sight and shivered slightly.  Now my view was of another, brief, one-sided sword match.  Who taught that idiot to fight?  The Countess was making another bid for freedom – I found myself rooting for her even though I knew the end.

"Sir Francis Drake – how the blazes am I te compete with that?" Jack mumbled.

"Dragon's Breath!" Mallory spat back – furious.  "Have you seen and heard **nothing** tonight?  Do you want this?  Is fame worth **THIS?**  Take a look! Take a **long** look brother – because you're not even seeing a tithe of my dead.  I raised you to be a better man than I am and you **are** a better man than I am.  So you tell me is" the tirade came to a sudden stop and he whispered.

"Skitter, scamper

Faster and faster

All in vain

Such a shame.

Snicker snack

Front and back.

Neither howl nor scream

It's not a dream.

Fight and claw

Against the wall.

Lost from sight

Then back in light.

Find another

Like a brother.

Duck and weave

But still believe.

Make a way

Save a day."

"Have ye lost yer mind?" Jack asked.

"Not at the moment" Mallory answered "Thought that might be preferable.  You mentioned breakfast.  I find I'm ravenous.  Let's withdraw to the galley shall we?" 

Jack grabbed his arm and swung him back around from what look suspiciously like a full blown retreat.  "Who is she?"

The she in question finally, well, scamper really was a good term, scampered into my line of sight.  The new leaf green of her hair marked her as Ellyllon long before you noticed the pointed ears.  Her features were so similar to Jack's in the feminine that she **had** to be Penthalion.  Then her silver eyes swung in my direction for the first time as she continued in her strange manner across the deck.  Mad, utterly undeniably insane. 

"Meleri" Mallory returned far too quickly "but about breakfast."  He moved to block her from both mine and Jack's line of sight.  "I seem to recall you had a fondness for my croissants.  No?  Omelets perhaps? Pancakes?"

"What were ye blathering earlier?"

"One of Meleri's rambles.  She always talked that way.  They say she was a Seer and that it was her gift that drove her mad.  She would follow me everywhere constantly mumbling and constantly contradicting herself.  For a woman everyone else said never spoke she could certainly keep the conversation one sided."

"What happened to her?" Jack asked as he tried to see around Mallory.

"The King of Avalon ordered all three of his wives executed by torri aelod a llarchio."

Mallory stayed between us and Meleri in spite of Jack's attempt to step around him.

"I'm not an innocent Mallory" Jack snapped "I'd seen no shortage of men die in Tortuga long ere I met ye and I've been a pirate most o me life.  Not much I haven't bloody seen."

"Bill thought that too but it didn't stop him from heaving his guts on Hispanolia.  And that was just torri without aelod or llarchio.  It's suppose to last for days.  Lots of knife work, very messy.  Snicker snack front and back. The King of Avalon doesn't like to bloody his own hands.  Now shall we?"

There was no need to ask who had ended up the King of Avalon's unwilling henchman.  The flutter of hands, the way he wouldn't meet Jack's eyes said it all. 

"I take it it didn't last for days" it wasn't a question.

"I had very exacting and explicate orders as to what to do but he didn't say anything about my Healing talent.  The same abilities that let you encourage a faltering heart to keep beating can let you stop it.  He wasn't best pleased with me. He…"

Mallory whirled knocking Jack off his feet as a pale hand reached out and grasped his shoulder.  He brought the white dagger up while instantly dropping into a defensive posture over Jack.  Meleri advanced.  He glanced down at Jack.  His green eyes had gone wide as saucers.  Obviously this wasn't a normal occurrence even for him.  He backed slowly away from her constantly keeping himself between her and Jack and drawing her further away.  Telling that in spite of being terrified himself his primary thought was Jack's safety.   He finally came to a halt with the rail at his back.

"Beth am chwi?" he asked in a surprisingly steady tone.

She started chanting something in El'lan.  His eyes flickered to Jack and then back to her.  He shook his head in fierce denial "Naddo, neb, dim eriod!"

"Dis" she replied.

A second angrier "Naddo."

"Gwrando ar myfi!" that sing-song cadence vanished as she barked an order at him.

"Myfi clywed chwi.  E dim darn am hon.  Boddhain." He pled.

"Ymwroli, bach nai." She retorted, more gently

"Mynd myfi a chwi, boddhain" he stopped abruptly as she vanished with the first touch of the newly risen sun's rays.  He slid the dagger back into its sheath with a slightly shaky hand. 

"What did she say?" Jack asked as he joined Mallory at the rail.

"Nothing that concerns you" Mallory rebutted in crystal clear tones.  Apparently being frightened nearly witless has a wonderfully sobering effect.

"Bullshit" Jack replied succinctly.

"As you like.  Nothing I care to share, pity you chose to ignore those l-lessons-s in El'lan."

"I thought you said nothing magical could come aboard without me permission."

"Obviously that-t doesn't extend-d to the dead.  What-t the bloody hell-l was she?"

"A ghost" Jack said as if to an imbecile.

A flash of anger in those green eyes. "I l-l-live with gh-ghosts everyday of my l-l-life.  I see the echoes of the d-dead-d-d and I know wh-where **all** of the bodies are buried.  And they don't take cor-por-eal f-f-form.  They don't s-s-say or do anything they d-d-didn't do in life."

It took me a moment to figure out why his voice sounded odd because it had been so many years since I'd heard it.  His teeth were chattering.  Jack must have realized it at the same moment because he reached out and hissed.  He blew on his fingers "You're freezing."

"Yes-s-s, I'm qu-quite, f-f-fully aw-a-a-are of th-that-t." Mallory replied testily. "W-w-ould y-you p-please s-s-tep as-s-s-side?"

 Jack started to pull off his coat.  Mallory seeing that Jack wasn't going to move sidled left himself "Th-th-a-a-t-t w-w-won't b-be nec-c-c-sary."

"Of course it is mate, we don't want ye getting sick…" Jack's words trailed off as Mallory was suddenly sheathed in flames. 

"Well, that's interesting" Jack muttered.

"I am the Etifedd chan Mor a Tanio, Sparrow, the Heir of Sea and **Fire**."  He sent a little dragon of fire winging around Jack's head.  "Besides as I said earlier Ellyllon do not become ill."  No sooner were the words of his mouth than he made a decidedly green sound and then promptly proved himself a liar by heaving over the rail.  From the sound of things he was being very thoroughly sick. 

"Ye were saying?" Jack asked as he steadied Mallory's shoulders.  "Ye know it occurs te me that I received no shortage of lectures when I was in similar positions in me largely misspent youth.  So in keeping with a family tradition, which I might note ye yerself commenced, I really think ye ought te remain aboard the Pearl for a bit.  And ye should eat more ye're still a growing lad ye know.  Hey, that makes ye me **little** brother, ye not being grown yet and all."

"Sparrow" Mallory growled.

"Yes?"

"Shut up while ye still have a head."

Jack silently handed him a handkerchief.   Mallory wiped his mouth and then studied Jack.

"Having us both on the Pearl puts all our eggs in one basket, as the saying goes.  No offense, **little** brother, but I'm the much bigger fish in this quite deadly game.  Better that I'm out there drawing the hounds away now that you're old enough to mostly look after yourself."  He picked up the cetera and gave the walking stave a thoughtful glance.

"I'm not holding ye here.  Why are ye so determined te have me permission te leave?  Is it Ariel?  Or is it because ye don't want anyone coming te look for ye while yer out there courting death?"

"Why ever do you say that?" he started to play.

"Because yer not the only one Wind tattles to.  Ye want my blessing te leave ye either take Bill with ye."

Mallory fumbled a note in surprise "Bill?  But he just got back together with his son and after nearly becoming a shrunken head for that there's no way I'm splitting them back up." He kept playing while I wondered what the shrunken head comment was about.

"Or do ye care te explain why ye were gnawing on the business end of a pistol fourteen months ago."

I felt my breath catch and covered it with a snore.

"You shouldn't believe everything Wind tells you.  He's a terribly gossip."

"He was very persistent" Jack rebutted.

"As you can see I opted not to follow through.  The subject isn't open to discussion.  If you were concerned you should have stopped by.  I'm fine."  We were back to that icy formality from earlier.

Jack rocked back.  I could tell he'd been hoping for a denial.  "Are ye? Ye'll pardon me if I don't believe ye.  Ye came here picking fights because ye wanted thrown off this ship.  Ye didn't want anyone inquiring after ye.  Ye're as thin as a rail.  Ye aren't eating.  Ye won't drop yer glamour and let me see ye.  No, brother I don't think ye're fine at all.   If ye're determined te leave I won't stop ye but ye won't leave here with me blessing until ye can convince me ye aren't going out there looking for death."

"I don't need to look, Sparrow, it's always right behind me.  I told Pearl I do the work she wanted done – I'll stay that long."  Mallory was still playing.

"Damn it what happ…" Jack just sort of slid down the Pearl's rail and Mallory caught him before he could hit the deck.

"You **are** good at lulling people, Sparrow, the only problem is I'm **better**."  He turned toward me "And if that's the best you can do at pretending to be asleep don't take up acting."

"You knew?"

"If I'd wanted you asleep – you'd have been asleep."

"Why?"

"Did your mother ever tell you the story of Peter and the Wolf?"

I couldn't for the life of me figure out what that had to do with anything but I nodded.

"What did Peter do wrong?"

"He cried wolf – he lied."

Mallory nodded "You know when I told Sparrow that story and asked him that question no matter how many different reasons he gave **that** one never occurred to him.  I never know what Sparrow's going to think about anything, ever.   If I believed in an omnipotent God I'd say he was the only one with a prayer of understanding Captain Jack Sparrow.  It would not surprise me at all if Sparrow comes to the conclusion that the answer to all of my various problems is I need to get drunk and screw.  And that I end up spending the next fortnight fending of 'altered' wine and likely ladies.  In case you hadn't noticed yet Captain Jack Sparrow lives in his own world.  And there a reason for that he's a gwyelt – a wild talent."  Mallory sighed and nibbled his lip "Think about this on the very day that your bonny lass had a dream that reminded her of the gold medallion that she'd stolen from you Captain Jack Sparrow sailed into Port Royal on a sinking ship.  If Anna-Maria's boat hadn't sunk Sparrow wouldn't have been quiet so desperate to steal the Interceptor, if Jack hadn't been lulling Murtogg and Mollroy he wouldn't have been there when your bonny lass nearly drowned thereby awakening the gold from the sleep I'd put on it."

He paused and looked at me.

"I was there" I reminded him warily "I know what happened."

"I'm sure you do but have you ever stopped to think about all the things that had to happen at precisely the right opportune moment for it to work?!  Have you thought about just how unlikely some of them were?  Have you tried to calculate the odds?"

In all honesty – I hadn't.  "I don't think I can count that high."

"Neither can I" Mallory replied "Sparrow changes the odds in any situation just by simply _wanting_.  Never, ever gamble with him unless you have some profound desire to loose the shirt off your back.  Sparrow _wanted_ the Pearl back.  Mind all he actually had to do was Call her but he didn't believe that.  Cennan, he didn't have a single thing going for him.  Only one person in Port Royal knew how to break him out of that cell, what are the odds that the worst pirate hater in town was going to set him free?  Sparrow's gift is to reshape the world as he wants it – within limits.  Take today – I've never flown a thousand miles in a single shot **ever**.  It was more than just my own strength that got me here in time.  But it's an absolute wild card talent – sometimes it does things that I can't even keep up with.  Sometimes it does nothing at all.  Sometimes it gets him what he wants but in a completely different way.  He wanted off the rumrunners' island but I'll wager he didn't much care for either rescue party.   I can't tell him about it because then he'll put his bloody faith in it and one day it'll fall through and kill him.  He hasn't got a lick of common sense, never has – probably never will.  He tries to do things even that gwyelt gift of his can't keep up with.  He's got some fool notion in that head of his that if he just waits for the right moment everything he wants will be his.  And damn it given his gifts he's not completely wrong but sometimes he sets his sites on things no magic will ever do.  The real reason why I pulled your father off the gallows back in New York is that he has common sense in spades and I thought he'd be the steadying influence Sparrow would need once, well, once the inevitable occurs.  The fact that he was an unjustly accused innocent and the best gunner I'd ever seen were bonuses.  Anna-Maria when she's thinking with her head is bedrock.  Gibbs may spin a good yarn but his feet are solidly on the ground.  But none of them know the truth about Sparrow's gift.  Or about the situation.  I wanted someone with a more traditional way of thinking to be around to occasionally remind Sparrow.  I know you might not be seeing too much of him but" He canted his head at me.

"I'll keep an eye on him" I could almost hear both Jack and Elizabeth grinding there teeth at my not asking anything in exchange "You weren't really going to?"

"If that's a closed topic with my brother, Cennan, it's certainly one with you as well." He ruffled my hair but he didn't smile.  Despair – there was nothing but despair in those green eyes.  He didn't even spare the sunrise a single glance.  The years since I'd last seen him had clearly taken their toll.

"Would Jack have to betray you to become King?  After all if that's what he's meant for…"

"I should have taught you chess.  Do us both a favor, you do the fighting and let that lass of yours handle the tactics.  If Jack Sparrow went to the King of Avalon and asked him to make him King of England – who is indebted?"

I felt my face flush "Jack is."

"He'd be nothing but a puppet king dancing to the King of Avalon's tune.  But if he comes bearing the most wanted fugitive in the history of Avalon he can make any terms he wants."

"But wouldn't the King of Avalon just break them?"

"There are ways around that and I've taught them to Sparrow."

"What does gobaith mean?" I asked wanting very badly to keep him talking.

"Where did you hear that?" I got a suspicious glance.

"You said it earlier about Bledri – that you robbed him of it."

"So I did.  Hope is the easy translation but last hope is closer.  It's the thing that keeps you going past all sense and all reason."  His eyes narrowed as the breeze picked up a little "Be careful when you get to Cap Francois.  The war between England and France is heating back up again.  The absolute **best** of luck to you Cennan." 

Why did that sound more like a goodbye than that day in the forge? "Wait! Aren't you going to be in Cap Francois?"

"In a manner of speaking."

 He touched my shoulder and the darkness rushed up and claimed me.

**Historical Notes:**

**St. Bartholomew's Day and the French Wars of Religion –**  In June of 1559 Henry the II of France sealed a treaty with Spain by marring his daughter Elizabeth Valois to Philip II of Spain.  The wedding was celebrated with numerous jousts and on July 1st a lance shattered on the joust field piercing the King's throat and right eye.  He lay semi-conscious for nine days before dying of virulent infection.  He left behind four young sons the eldest of which at 15 was Mary Queen of Scots first husband.  Henry had been rabidly anti-protestant and with a strong king on the throne it is unlikely that the Protestants would have made much headway.  Catherine de Medicis didn't seem to have the passion for burning people her late husband did.  With all of the King's heirs still children the powerful nobles fought for dominance.  The pro-Catholic Guises and the Protestant Bourbons being the respective figureheads.  Between 1562 – 1598 there were eight wars of religion (and a few purely political ones).  In August of 1572 Catherine de Medicis married her daughter Maurgerite Valios to Prince Henry Bourbon of Navarre in hopes, well historians bicker over what her goals were, but whatever the motives the result was a blood bath.  With the cream of the Protestant nobles in France in town for the wedding the Guises assassinated Admiral Gaspard de Coligny.  By the time the killing was over in Paris somewhere between 1 and 5,000 Protestants were dead.  (And all but two of the Protestant nobles.)  From Paris the killing spread into the hinterlands where the estimates vary between 3 to 15,000 more deaths before things finally calmed down in October.  For Mallory to take _complete_ responsibility for the mess in France is a little far fetched but he's being a bit of an idiot at the moment.


	11. Of Swords, Shrunken Heads, and Sunrises

**Author's notes**: My apologies for last time!! Here's to hoping (praying, rain dancing (well, maybe not rain dancing as there are crayfish having a party in my new front lawn), ect.) that the posting of this one goes smoother than the last one!!

**Typically Head-Over-Heels: **Ack, no! Not whining, anything but whining :). Seriously, I'm writing as fast as real life will let me. Mallory is an incredibly persistent chap.

**Christian: **Welcome!! Glad you enjoy the history 'cause there's even more in Mallory's "journal". (For those who hate it - bear with me or run screaming from chapters 13-15)

**Dragon Hunter200: **Ellyllon and perfect most certainly do not belong in the same sentence any more than human and perfect. Though in defense of the Ellyllon very few children (outside of House Penthalion) actually die in the angheuol. The father is permitted to interfere in **_any_**_ way he sees fit _and in **most** cases the Draig 'hunt and destroy' instinct is at war with a human mother's natural inclinations so **most** hunts are half-hearted at best.

Generally speaking I try to drop hints along the way so all kinds of little throw-away lines become more important later. Amazingly enough, as long as these chapters are most of them are actually getting trimmed.

**Beautifully Immortal: **Welcome to my obsession! Unfortunately this chapter is pretty quiet in the present. (We do get some flashback action) I also altered when a certain punch gets thrown to get us a _little_ more action one of Bill's flashbacks (much to Mallory's disgust since he was all for slugging the silly git from the beginning). Chapter 11 likewise is quiet in the present with a bit of flashback action. We should make up for it in Ch 12 though when Jack's _wanting_ of Mallory's journal leads to: a kidnapping, the Pearl sailing headlong into a pitched battle between French and English Naval warships, a daring rescue, Mallory indulging his vicious side, some nasty backlash and a clever snatch of the journal (not necessarily in that order with a few incidentals and the collection of a few strays along the way.) It should be a nice long chapter of mostly mayhem. Does anyone happen to know if there are any hard and fast rules for the PG-13/R break for violence?

**Little Bird: **Jack and flight – I argued with myself whether or not to answer this one. Jack **should not** be able to fly even with his great potential **_skill_** with air because he lacks Mallory's raw power. All that inbreeding has produced in Mallory what almost amounts to a force of nature (when someone hasn't ripped holes in him). A lot of the time Mallory just bulls his way through. He's tossing all that magical 'muscle' around to get to places he doesn't necessarily have the skill, talent, or training to go. On the other hand Jack has the potential to 'finesse' air in a way Mallory can't (and will never be able to). But Jack also has the proverbial ace up his sleeve so…I've outlined four potential endings for this story. In honor of the rules I've laid down for Jack's "wild" talent when I get to the proper chapter the ending will come down to two rolls of the dice. If at an opportune moment Jack **doesn't** get off the ground we get ending A – bittersweet at best. If he does we get b, c, or d. B is the happily ever after, c is another bittersweet (and the topic of Meleri's prophecy in the pervious chapter) and d is – d is bad. If I suddenly tell you I'm refusing to finish you know the roll. I'm not sure I'm up to doing that to my boys.

On the topic of Mallory's "middle child" – the ship's name has been mentioned but it has never directly been called a magic ship. Let's just say that guilt over the slaughter at Isla de Muerta wasn't the ONLY reason the original James Norrington committed suicide. But more on Mallory's "bad seed" later…

**AriannaMalfoy****:** Welcome! And just because a story is long and complicated doesn't necessarily mean it's **good**. Your story has good grammar, an interesting plot, is more in character than this one (well, I do imagine Norrington a little stuffier than you do but that's just me), has intriguing possibilities, and tantalizing hints of more twists to come – what's **not** to like?! (Well an update is always nice….;).

**Titan's Fan 545: **Welcome and enjoy!!

**Hecate****: **Also welcome and thank you!! I'm glad you enjoy the little bits of humor (actually I'm glad they ARE humorous – tragedy I can write. Humor I have trouble with). I also seem to have fumbled with Mr. Not Cotton – He **is (**or at least** was)** human but the Ellyllon and the cyfae have been using him as a football. Mallory is going to be quite displeased when he finally figures out who he is (or **was** I should say before all the magical mayhem). But that's another story for a later chapter…

**PirateBlackSmith****:** Welcome as well – any eta on another Fallen Man update?

**Falcon's Wing:** Nothing in the 5 books I have on pirates mentions a breakout in 1672 (though 3 of them don't have indexes – who writes a book without an INDEX?!) I'll be keeping my eyes open on my next library run.

Meleri was actually a bit of a surprise from my subconscious – **originally** her presence as a 'normal' ghost got Mallory thinking of all the other prophecies she'd made. Then all the sudden as I'm typing she's in the story in 'reality', giving a completely new prophecy, and trying to order Mallory around from 'the other side'. Spooky. Makes me wonder a bit if we're going to see anything else from her later since I'm not completely sure what she's up to. Maybe I should **not **be up writing at 3:45 AM after all…

But on with the story…

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 10 Of Swords, Shrunken Heads, and Sunrises**

"Mallory said he should be waking up now" Elizabeth sounded terribly worried. Can't have that – it isn't good for the baby. A baby – Elizabeth and I were going to have a baby. I wonder if she'll mind if we name her Catherine after my mum?

"Never saw Mr. Mallory wrong 'bout healing in the surgery, Miss Elizabeth" Gibbs said comfortingly.

"But he's so still and pale" she whispered as her hand took my own. I tried to squeeze her hand but my fingers felt as if each one weighed a thousand pounds. She lifted my hand, rubbing it against her silken smooth cheek. She sniffled. 'Don't cry' I tried to say 'Please don't cry.' With supreme effort I managed too force my suddenly leaden eye lids open and was met by the most beautiful sight on earth – Elizabeth smiling at me. There was a series of crashes followed by some curses that really should have made Jack blush. I tried to ask a question but lacked the strength. Elizabeth knew what I wanted anyway.

"He's been like that since we all woke up a little while ago." There was a louder crash "I assume he's looking for something" bang "and not having much luck" thump "finding it." Shatter. The harp at Elizabeth's right flinched and whimpered with every sound. With difficulty I caught my father's eye and then looked down at the harp. Good God even moving my eyes was hard!

He nodded at me and went out of my line of sight.

"Mr. Gibbs if you would be so kind?"

"Why certainly, Miss Elizabeth." He went behind me and heaved me gently into a sitting position. 'Not in front of Elizabeth!! I am NOT an invalid!' I wailed mentally before nearly sliding right off the palette. Mallory had said I'd feel miserable. I had assumed that meant I'd be sore or sick. I was neither actually. Aside from the fact that my body seemed to weigh three and a half tons I felt fine. The misery was to my pride and I found myself wishing I could fall back asleep. He could have warned me I was going to become the human equivalent of a piece of overcooked pasta! Was I going to stay like this for another two **days?!** Gibbs made a second more successful try at propping me in a semi-upright position. Elizabeth started spooning some broth into my mouth which promptly dribbled back out the other side. I could feel the flush suffusing my face. Can I die now?

"Good of ye whelp te give Lizzy some practice for later" Jack sounded completely serious – as if I actually had a choice in this. "Now, Lizzy"

"It's **El-iz-a-****beth**."

Jack just gave her a cheeky grin "If ye keep doing it that way all yer going te feed is his shirt and me brother"

"Brother?" several voices interrupted.

"Aye, we had a bit of a chat, Mallory and I after the rest o ye blokes dropped off. Now, me brother says that yer te eat all o this and the more Lizzy feeds yer shirt the less in yer belly, savvy. So watch carefully lass" Oh please no, Gibbs and Elizabeth were bad enough but now to be fed by Jack!! And in front of my father? I wanted to melt into the deck. But this time I actually managed to swallow. He deftly gave me two more spoonfuls before passing the bowl back to Elizabeth. I had to wonder just were Captain Jack Sparrow had picked up _that_ particular talent. As Jack rose the harp touched his cutlass and whispered "Artorius?"

He dropped down to her eye level while Elizabeth started shoveling soup into me with more success.

She flinched back into Elizabeth's skirts and sighed "Neb, Artorius am marw. __Lladdedig am Mordred ap Artorius. Either chwi adhil Penthalion. Pwy am chwi?"

It was odd to hear Elizabeth's voice coming from the harp.

"Captain Jack Sparrow" he replied while giving her his most charming grin.

She let go of Elizabeth's skirt and looked at him curiously "ap Mallory?"

"Neb, ap Aub" about the same moment Jack stopped abruptly short of saying his father's full name the harp gave a little shriek and clawed her way back into Elizabeth's skirts.

"Naddo, boddhain, naddo, naddo" there was a frantic, panicked desperation in her tone that would have been heartbreaking in any woman but hearing it in Elizabeth's voice was like a sword in the gut. I wanted to help her. I **needed** to help her and I was ironed flat to the palette. My best efforts managed no more than a flutter of my fingers which was (depressingly) actually an improvement. Elizabeth paused looking torn as to whether she should keep feeding me or comfort the weeping harp. There was a whisper of steel as Jack drew his cutlass and laid it on the boards.

Fy clyddef am eiddo gwieni." I'd never heard Jack speak so slowly. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he obviously picked his brain for every bit of El'lan he could remember. "Fy tadogi dim gallu chwi asgen yma." The harp paused in her weeping. "Chwi diogelu yma." She giggled, then snickered, and finally laughed hysterically before cautiously peeking one brilliant, Caribbean blue eye back out at us. She was beautiful. Almost entirely bone white except for the faint blush of rose in her cheeks and lips, the pale brown hair, and her intensely blue eyes.

"Jack, what on earth did you say?" Elizabeth asked as she spooned the last of the soup into me.

"I thought I was offering her the services of me sword and protection from me father but I'm not exactly fluent in El'lan."

"Or she's seen you fight" I retorted and was utterly surprised that I succeeded in speaking. I tried moving – my hands felt heavier than the hammers I used in the forge but I could at least raise them a little. Better – not at all good – but better. I wondered what was in the soup since it seemed to have worked wonders.

Jack grinned back at me "Don't recall ye winning against me, whelp."

"You cheat" I grumbled back "You ignore the rules of engagement"

"I know in a fair fight ye'd kill me." As he started to pick up the cutlass his eyes met mine "Ye don't think?"

"No – it couldn't be" I returned as I remembered the day I tried to replace that piece of junk with a real blade…

_Someone was watching me. I could feel it. I whirled away from the forge a glowing, nearly finished, sword in one hand and hammer in the other. _

_Jack Sparrow gave me a jaunty golden grin "Is that how ye greet all yer friends?"_

_"Jack" I hissed torn between exasperation and delight._

_His face fell a little "Thought ye'd be pleased te see me, whelp."_

_"I am but" I paused to set both sword and hammer aside. The fool hadn't even bothered to disguise himself "if Norrington's men catch you."_

_"They won't – I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"_

_'Idiot, daft idiot' I thought._

_"Ye didn't think I'd miss yer wedding now did ye?"_

_I sighed and mentally counted to ten "You can't possibly plan on attending like that."_

_Jack glanced down "Thought I looked pretty dapper, if I do say so meself."_

_He did, but he also looked just like Captain Jack Sparrow better dressed. And in spite the fact that most of the outfit looked like it had come from the tailor today he was still wearing that ratty old hat and battered cutlass. I gave up on talking sense to him and instead picked up something I'd made for him – just in case. I held perhaps the best sword I'd ever made out to him._

_"Nice work" he said running his eyes down the blade and giving me a questioning look._

_"Take it, it's for you."_

_"Why thank ye, whelp, but I already have a trusty blade" he patted the tired pommel fondly. "Besides, I thought ye were suppose to **get** presents for yer wedding not give'em."_

_"The wedding isn't for another two days Jack, please take it." I'd have thought he'd be eager to be rid of that piece of poorly forged pig iron._

_"It's beautiful, Will, but it isn't for me. I promised the man who raised me I'd never part with this one."_

_"So keep it, hang it in your cabin but for God's sake Jack please use this. I don't want to hear that that piece of scrap metal broke and you were killed or captured because of it."_

_The mad man just grinned at me "Ye sound just like the man who gave this to me." He sighed "I'm touched that ye care, whelp, but this is a better blade than it appears to be." He unbelted the scabbard and tossed it to me. I pulled the blade free and tried to balance it. Perfect, utterly perfect. It couldn't be. My eyes said it was unwieldy but it balanced perfectly. I tossed it, caught it easily, and gave it an experimental swing. It sang through the air still incongruously perfectly balanced. I sliced at one of the metal uprights fully expecting the blade to shatter and then he'd accept the one I'd made him. Except it didn't. It bit deep into the steel and slid cleanly free without leaving so much as a scratch on the blade. Both of us froze as Norrington's voice carried in from just outside. Jack reclaimed his sword and melted into the shadows…_

I blinked at Jack "You said Mallory gave it to you?"

"Aye just afore the trip to Isla de Meurta when we took the Mariposa…

_He laughed aloud at the little brig that had foolishly dared to attack the __Pearl__ and gave the red no quarter flag she was flying a roll of his eyes. "Are they mad?" he asked Captain Mallory whose keen green eyes were watching both the Pearl's crew and the approaching ship like a hawk._

_"No, but they are desperate and desperate men will do mad things" he replied calmly. "Aim for the rigging, fools!" He bellowed at the gunners. "The next scabberous dog who puts a hole under her waterline will be used to plug it! Prepare to repel boarders in the stern. All hands at the ready!"_

_He whirled in surprise as a fly boat so laden with men she was shipping water over her gunwales attempted to grapple with them. How in blazes had Mallory known they were coming up behind? _

_"Eyes in the back of his bleeding head" Mr. Matthews muttered as he passed him. _

_He overtook Mr. Matthews eager for the fray as the lightly manned starboard guns kept roaring at the little brig – keeping her at a safe distance he realized while they dealt with the boarding party. He'd wondered earlier why Mallory had bothered firing on her with the long nines at all. If he wanted her as prize for her captain's lunacy then better to let her grapple and kill or capture her crew than to waste shot blowing holes they'd only have to patch later. Now he understood. A quick count showed that they were actually outnumbered even without the pirates crewing the brig but no matter. He was Jack Sparrow. And he had Mallory and the Black __Pearl__ – together they could beat thousand to one odds – what were a score or three of extra pirates? He joined his fellow crewmen at the rail as they fired a volley at the men swarming up the ropes He shivered a little, not liking actually killing as his man vanished into the blood stained depths. Fighting was exciting, killing wasn't. He determined that in a few more years when he was pirate Captain Jack Sparrow there'd be as little bloodshed as possible. Had anyone actually managed to sack a town without a shot fired? Mallory would know. If they hadn't then **he** would be first. Make his mark as the pirate who took the most loot with the least blood – that's what he'd do. Something better te brag about than roasting women alive. He pulled his eyes away from the approaching dorsal fins as the first pirate cleared the rail by Fleet. He dropped his musket and pulled his cutlass._

_'Too thin' he thought as a pistol shot sent the man backwards into the jaws of the hungry sharks. The __Pearl__'s crew had sent over twenty men into Davey Jones Locker without impressing the pirates at all. _

_'Crazy' he thought and gave them another look 'with hunger' and then there was no more time for thinking – just for staying alive. There was no strategy to them. This was no fencing match – it wasn't even a __Tortuga__ style brawl. He drove his cutlass deep into the man in front of him and then kicked him free of the blade as quickly as possible as he danced back. Desperation gave them a wild strength as they fought regardless of the odds. _

_He pulled one of his pistols and put a ball into a man about to gut Mr. Matthews and looked up at an ambulatory mountain. God, but he was bigger than Peterson! Speaking o Peterson why couldn't this bloody ambulatory land mass pick on someone nearer his own size. He grabbed a second pistol and fired or tried to. Damn! The powder must have gotten wet. He swallowed and back pedaled – he was soon to be Captain Jack Sparrow and he wasn't stupid. There's an opportune moment for everything and this was the moment for a strategic retreat. The mountain had other ideas and lumbered after him ax in hand. He fled right into the rail. Double damn! He deflected the first swing of the ax his blade protesting the abuse and his shoulders screaming in agony against the jolt. As he caught the second he could almost hear Mallory's voice telling him to never block like that because the blade would. He just missed getting his throat slit by the shattered bits of his own sword. He wished he could have lived long enough to hear Mallory say 'I told you so' was his only thought as the ax came flashed downward in a fatal descent. Only to lodge in the rail instead of his head. Interesting, very interesting. As the mountain toppled he noticed the tip of a white dagger protruding from the bridge of his nose. Ah, well, that explained it. Must have been one hell of a throw to sink it all the way to the cross guard – right through his skull – impressive, really. Triple damn – Mallory to the bloody rescue again. Bit annoying that. Now he **was** going to hear Mallory say 'I told ye so'. Speaking o Mallory if his dagger was here then he was unarmed. Not good. O course, he looked down at the broken hilt in his hand, he wasn't exactly armed anymore either. He glanced around the melee on deck. Mallory had apparently appropriated one of the pirates' cutlasses and was making very good use of it. Lovely idea. He wrapped a hand around the dragon hilted dagger Mallory had never even let him touch and gave it a tug._

_ About time a sibilant hiss echoed through his mind still thirsty. Hurry! There's more killing to be done. Whatever possessed you to throw me in the first place? ._

_ Not him, another a second hiss with a different voice._

_ How sweet – fresh meat from the first.__ He tried to release the dagger but found himself unable to do so. He could feel something cold and dark brush against and then slither around his soul._

_ Why have you not been brought before Us? You are well past the hour of choosing the hiss was angry._

_He just froze – still and silent and prayed that he hadn't really gone mad and that no one would notice him on his knees in the fallen mountain's shadow as the battle continued about him._

_ What is your name the other demanded equally furious._

_ Don't give it to them! someone else shouted in near panic. There was something familiar about that lilting voice that bellowed in fierce defiance. He is **NOT** for you! _

_ He carries the Blood the first snapped._

_ And the Blood is ours from the second_

_ His Blood is mingled. You have no claim. You shall not have him. He is not yours. _

_ You have no right to defy US, Nameless One the second spat._

_ But I do, and I do it well you could hear the smirk in the third voice._

_The first voice was weaker, further away and the cold feeling in his soul retreated. One day, Nameless, you will misstep ._

_ And we will have you the second voice was little more than a whisper but the menace in it was crystal clear._

_ Catch me if you can the third voice challenged – uncowed and utterly fearless._

_He let the dagger drop onto the __Pearl__'s blood soaked deck. What in the name of God had that been about? He shook his head to clear it as a shadow fell across him. He wrapped his fingers around the broken hilt of his old cutlass. Be damned if he'd touch Mallory's dagger again. _

_"Well that isn't going to do you much good" Mallory noted as he rammed his dagger into its sheath angrily. "Mr. Matthews take a prize crew and get that hole patched. I want her pumped and ready to sail in two bells. Mr. Sparrow, you're with me. Peterson see to the flyboat. Fleet, inform Dr. Blood I will assist him with the wounded presently. And somebody secure that sail, double time. Move it ye scurvy knaves, I want the blood off the decks, the dead ready for burial, and the rigging repaired. Now!" _

_Every man still able to walk scattered like a leaf before a gale. No one, but no one, wanted to run afoul of the Captain. The men respected his seamanship, his fairness, and his cleverness. They appreciated a steady wage and the added bonus of a fair share of any captured goods either from pirates foolish enough to attack or Mallory's occasional foray into privateering. But with William Kidd long gone there wasn't a man left aboard other than himself brave enough to meet the Captain's icy green glare. It always struck him as a bit odd since Mallory had never actually **done** anything particularly dark and depraved._

_The captured pirates cowered in a pathetic little huddle as a dozen crew men kept them covered and Bailey put shackels on them. He shivered a little as Mallory pulled that white dagger free. White, not red, no blood and he hadn't cleaned it. He pushed the memory of that hungry voice complaining about being thirsty away. He was NOT daft and daggers do NOT talk. Mallory stepped in front of the first pirate who threw his head back and glared defiance. He blanched and dropped his eyes almost immediately. He wondered - what it was that everyone saw in those green eyes that was so frightening? He'd heard the hands whisper about how it was as if the Captain could see all the way to a man's soul and having once been weighted in those scales you never wanted to chance it again. One by one he worked his way through the pirates, parting them into three small groups and one poor soul off by himself. _

_"Bailey – these go to the brig" he waved that dagger at the largest group. He turned to the middle group "My first mate needs help pumping and repairing the brig you stole. Give him fair and honest assistance and I'll set you loose in Petit Groave. Cause him the least trouble and you'll share your erstwhile compatriots' fate." He gave the next four a hard, cold look "I could send you down to the brig with your fellows and let the law deal with you but I don't trust you to behave yourselves for that long. I accuse you of roasting a poor woman alive while demanding she tell you the location of treasure she didn't have. I find you guilty. The sentence is death." He moved so quickly none of them had a chance to protest before they ended up feeding the still frenzied sharks. He sheathed the still white blade. There were no protests – most of the crew had been in the tavern when the five of them had wandered in bragging about the deed. Most o the men had just given them a wide berth and ignored them. But when they put into Vera Cruz a few months later Mallory had hired them a pair of horses and ridden out to the spot. It had been a very grim Mallory that had ridden back. He recognized the last man now. While his mates had boasted of the act he'd buried his head in his arms and wept, not caring one whit for what was being said about him and his womanly display of vapors. He stood quietly watching, waiting patiently._

_"I could use another good man" Captain Mallory offered "if you'd like to sign on. If not you can join those with Mr. Matthews and go your way in Petit Groave."_

_The man gaped "But I was with them. I was there when they. I stood aside and. I deserve to die."_

_Captain Mallory caught his eye and held it "You did her no harm."_

_"But I gave her no help either!" _

_It was a rare man that would not only match the Captain's stare but bellow back at him. He was either very brave or very foolish – or looking for death. He measured the slight young man in front of Mallory and decided that looking for death was the most likely choice._

_"No, four to one is poor odds and you are not a swordsman. You would have merely died with her."_

_"Instead I live as a coward" he retorted fiercely._

_"No, as a good man who made a mistake, or perhaps several mistakes. I rather think you will be wiser now. Wise men learn by example while the rest of us muddle through our messes to whatever scraps of wisdom we can claw. What good would your death do? And more importantly, Gerald, what harm would your death cause? Who do you leave behind? What price does another pay for your honor?"_

_The disheveled young man opened his mouth to make an angry retort and then his face flamed. He straightened. "I'll sign yer Articles. Ye won't be sorry."_

_Mallory inclined his head and then turned to him "Sparrow would you be so kind as to await me in our cabin while I check with Dr. Blood?"_

_'Dismissed to wait in his room like a bloody child' he seethed inwardly but he went anyway still carrying the useless hilt of his cutlass._

_He ought to have been helping not sitting in here. He sighed, sat on his bunk, and started idly flipping through a collection of the writings of_ _Philips van Marnix heer van St Aldegonde whose whole point seemed to be that a king had no right to force the conscience of his subjects. He set it down and glared at the 'Letters of Henry Navarre' – all ten volumes. Nobody should write that many bloody letters. The way Mallory talked about 'em ye'd think he knew em personal. Just as he was about to begin pacing Mallory entered. He paused in the doorway and stared at him long enough that he started to become uncomfortable under those green eyes._

_"Is something amiss?" he finally asked._

_Mallory just gathered him up in a fierce hug instead of replying. Shaking – he realized in surprise – Mallory was shaking. That frightened him more than the mountain had – Mallory was **not** the jittery type. Odd, he could swear he was being crushed against brocade and lace with what felt like inset gems not Mallory's rich, well cut, but Puritan plain garb. And come te think on it he felt thinner and shorter too. Interesting. He shifted a little glad that this particular display hadn't happened on the deck. There were enough whispers about what exactly Captain Mallory kept him so close for without anyone else seeing this. And Mallory keeping the ladies at arms length only added fuel to that particular fire. Not that anything ever had happened but that didn't stop the talk. Only Mallory's actual presence quieted the wagging tongues._

_"I thought he had you." Mallory whispered in a rattled voice into his ear as he finally let him go. "All I thought that throw was going to do was avenge you." _

_"Aye, well" he said a bit flustered "no harm done. All's well that end's well."_

_Mallory knelt in front of the dragon chest that he'd never been able to get open (in spite of numerous discrete attempts) and pulled out something swathed carefully in clothe of silver. He went up on tip-toe to see into the chest but all he could spot over Mallory's broad shoulders was an odd walking stave. He was a little disappointed when a battered old cutlass was what all that silver cloth was protecting. The cloth was probably worth ten times what the sword was. Mallory stayed on his knees, cradled the blade reverently in his palms, raised it above his lowered head, and presented it to him. Odd chap, Mallory. He gingerly took the blade, slid it free of its tired sheath, and gave it an experimental swing. It felt right, so utterly and completely **right** in his hands – as if it was a part of himself long sundered. A piece he'd never known was missing. _

_"It's better than it looks" he allowed to Mallory who looked more uncertain than he'd ever seen him._

_"One day Captain Jack Sparrow you will discover that many things are not as they appear. Promise me you'll never part with it."_

_He tucked the scabbard into his sash "It's just a bit o metal."_

_"**Promise me you'll never part with it.**" _

_He flashed Mallory a grin trying to get him to lighten up a bit. It didn't work. "If it means that much then I promise not te part with it."_

_Mallory inclined his head, shut the trunk, and pulled a pair of pistols from somewhere else. "I'd meant present these to you in a couple more years but you nearly died of their lack today. They'll never misfire. Their powder will never fail. You can shoot them underwater if you have to."_

_Daft – the man was daft. There was no such thing as pistol that still fired when wet._

_"Ye'll be having Mr. Matthews serve as prize captain for the brig?"_

_"Matthews will be bringing the Mariposa into port."_

_He shook his head – the Butterfly. Why did Mallory insist on renaming every captured pirate vessel something ridiculous? _

_"Ye'll need someone to bring the fly boat in – unless ye intend to scuttle her."_

_Mallory arched a dark brow at him "She's small enough to tow."_

_He sighed a little in disappointment and Mallory glanced at him. You could see a war raging in his eyes before he tossed something squarish at him._

_He caught it. "What's this?"_

_Mallory gave him a long-suffering glare "What does it look like?"_

_He flipped it open "It doesn't point north."_

_"It will if you're trying to find north. It points wherever you wish to go. I had planned on trying to drum a bit more about navigation into your head before handing you an excuse to forget what little you've learned." He was twisting the silver cloth in his hands – undoubtedly crinkling it beyond repair "But if you're going to bring in the fly boat it's best you have it. Take Gerald and one other of your choice as crew and meet me in Petit Groave." His gaze dropped to the cutlass and he looked even more worried._

_"If yer that afraid I'm going to lose it then keep the bloody thing" he grumbled._

_"I think I'm more afraid of where he might lead you then where you might leave him but he'll never break on you in battle. And I don't think I'd ever forgive myself if I withheld him and you ended up dead because of it. At least this way I'll never hear that you were killed or captured because some piece of scrap metal broke on you." He forced a smile that didn't reach his green eyes "Go on – you've only got an hour and there are no provisions on that thing. The fools were reduced to eating their shoe leather."_

_He gave Mallory a jaunty grin and turned to go._

_"A moment" Mallory called after him and he turned back reluctantly, certain that Mallory was going to renege, but instead he dropped a slightly battered hat on his head and gave him a more honest grin. "There, can't be a proper captain without a hat. Now off with ye Captain Jack Sparrow – we both have our own work to do." Then he muttered something in that daft fairy language of his and he could have sworn the sword at his side replied in kind…_

Elizabeth was giving Jack a wide eyed look "He talked about Excaliber last night but he couldn't possibly have meant…" She narrowed her eyes "Why would he give you the sword of Britain?"

Personally my question would have been why did **Mallory** have the sword of Britain?

Jack ignored her in favor of the harp "Beth yr ewn am dyma cleddyf?"

The harp gave him a bemused look at first and then you could see her puzzle out what Jack was trying to ask.

"Caladrwlch" she chirped blithely unaware of the affect on us.

All eyes turned to the sword in front of Jack. The harp gave Jack a long look and then reached out and yanked on one of the beaded braids swinging from his chin. Jack gave a surprised yelp. Everyone else snickered the moment broken. The harp disappeared back into Elizabeth's skirt. I squirmed a little or tried to. The soup had been wonderful but it had made another need much worse and trying to laugh hadn't helped matters. Something must have tipped Jack off because he rammed the sword back into its sheath and told my father "Ye get his other side, Bill."

The two of them levered me to my feet and proceeded to more or less drag me in the direction of the head. It would have worked much better if both I and my father weren't several inches taller than Jack. We staggered few times like a bunch of Tortugan drunks. I could hear Elizabeth trying not to laugh and failing.

"Where's Mallory?" I asked Jack urgently once I completely gave up on trying to move my feet.

"According te Pearl – under the hull" again that flash of jealousy in Jack's eyes which I took to mean Pearl was enjoying whatever it was Mallory was doing. I thanked every deity I'd ever heard of that I at least had the wherewithal to take care of business myself even if it took Jack and my father to keep me upright.

"There it is" Jack crowed triumphantly, nearly dropping me, as he snatched up a worse for wear and missing at least a third of its pages book from beside the head.

"Sparrow" my father growled at Jack who blithely ignored us both initially pleased as punch with his find before his eyes narrowed angrily.

"Well, whelp, I think that's enough excitement for now."

Nearly getting dumped face first onto the head when I hadn't a prayer of breaking my fall was more 'excitement' than I ever needed.

"Let's just get ye tucked back inte bed."

Laying back down was heavenly. I'd never been this tired in my life and I hadn't done anything! I clung to the fact that he'd made me **promise** to stay in bed three days that had to mean that at some point getting up would be both tempting and possible. Jack was leafing through the tattered remnants of the book that had so nearly been my undoing.

"Joshamee Gibbs" Jack said **far **too sweetly.

Gibbs froze "Aye, Captain."

"What was me old log book doing up by the head?"

"Well, ye see Captain, it's like this" he took a nervous sip from his flask. "The lads, well they don't put much trust in readin' and writin'. They figured it'd be terrible bad luck if the wrong sort o folk were te get a look see at yer log."

"Do ye actually think I'd write something incriminating down in me log?!"

Gibbs looked even more nervous. "Well, not intentional like, but them lawyers are a tricksy bunch, Captain, the lads figured it was best to" he took another nervous sip "dispose o the evidence."

"Ah" Jack pinned Gibbs with a look that would have done his brother proud "Well, ye just let 'em know that they can keep their arses off me log books and if the pages I'm looking for are gone there'll be hell te pay."

"Aye, Captain" Gibbs nodded and fled.

Jack leaned back and laid the book aside.

"Weren't you looking for something?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"Aye, missy, but at the moment I think I'd like to hear Bill's side o the story."

My father blinked at Jack in confusion.

"Why did ye let us all think that Gibbs was the last one te see Mallory? Why didn't ye just bloody say ye'd seen him a couple o years ago?"

My father went pasty white "Don't know what yer talkin' bout, mate."

Jack spread his hands "I would have though a brush with becoming a shrunken head would be memorable. Didn't think ye were old enough te be that senile, Bill."

My father flushed deep crimson "He told you about that?"

Jack shrugged "I'd like te hear yer side afore I make any decisions."

I nearly blurted that Mallory had in fact told us nothing at all. He'd just made a startled comment that Jack was using to shamelessly manipulate my father into telling the whole tale. It was wrong. It was deceitful. I really should say something – except I didn't.

My father turned away from Jack and focused on me "I thought, I really thought that Mr. Mallory was going te, he certainly made it sound as if he intended." He got up and paced restlessly "I'm sorry, lad, please forgive me fer being a bloody coward."

I just blinked back at him in confusion while he turned to Elizabeth "Ye were a lovely bride, lass."

'My God' I thought, thunderstruck "You were at the wedding."

"Aye, Mr. Mallory jumped through hoops te get me there and then I went absolutely yellow." He glanced around at the handful of crew and the Governor surrounding us. "I'd like a moment with me son" he snapped.

Jack rolled to his feet and started bellowing orders. My father caught Elizabeth's arm "Ye're family now lass, best ye stay. Ye too Jack." He rubbed his hands together and then rubbed his face. "Ye've got te understand, son, I thought ye'd been dead fer eight years. Fer eight years I'd been trying te die, figured with everything I ever loved gone there wasn't much point te living. Lacked the guts te burn meself alive but I found something that even with the curse could make the world go away. Never did find out what the native medicine men called it. They used it in tiny quantities in their ceremonies. A few moonlight appearances and they were leaving me offerings o it. I didn't even notice when the curse lifted…

_ Swirling colors, glittering lights, drifting, always drifting in the nothing. Purple fog. Orange lightening. A touch, hands. Blinking rapidly, the colors inside overlaying the all greens at the edge of the rain forest. _

_"Dragon's breath, Bill, and I thought Bledri was a mess." Hands again rolling me towards the speaker – cat's eyes staring at me. He wrinkled his nose and pressed a bejeweled hand te it "You smell worse than Newgate and Fleet combined." He wiped the hand he'd touched me with off on a vine, vainly trying te rid it o the clinging black snot. Sounds – just sounds none o it made any sense. He gingerly touched me face and all me colors went away._

_"No" I pushed at the hands wanting me colors back as I whimpered fer me fog but they were gone. All gone, everything gone. Sad, so sad. Tears trickled down me cheeks. Tried te stop not sure why. Not sure why I was sad. The pretty green eyes were worried. So green, greener even than the rain forest around us. Things were clearer but only a little. Good, didn't wan'em clear. Forgetting was better._

_"Bill?" Green Eyes whispered. Familiar. I should know Green Eyes. He rocked back onte his heels and his brow furrowed. "Dragon's Blood, goblin's tears, and all the little fishes in the Sea what have you done to yourself?" he muttered aghast. An ear flickered and he looked up. _

_"Come on, we've **got** to get moving."_

_I knew the sounds should mean something but I couldn't puzzle out what. He wrapped a hand around mine and yanked me te me feet. Or tried te. Didn't wanna go. He braced himself, pulled harder, and then stumbled when I rose. A quick glance off te our right, followed by a hard shove towards the river. There was a boat on the river, just below the waterfall. Green Eyes' bird boat, pretty little boat, but it had buff sails not black. There was another boat wasn't there? Jack's boat – but Jack lost his boat. Poor Jack. Who was Jack? Green Eyes gave me another shove and I fell. Green Eyes yanked me back up angrily. Didn't wanna go te the river. Never, never te the river. Why not? Oh, yes. Green Eyes had te stay with the water and I didn't wanna see Green Eyes. He was looking back behind us. I bolted left away from the river. He was after me in a flash but he wasn't use te the forest and the vines caught him, slowing him as he used his white, white dagger te cut himself loose. He wouldn't be able te find me in the thick, thick forest. _

_ I leaned against a tree breath coming in painful gasps as me side felt like someone had run me through. It didn't use te do that – did it? Not sure. I pushed away from the tree te go farther from the river when a silver and red blur knocked me off my feet. Three monkey darts sank inte the tree where I'd been standing. Poor monkeys. Poison darts. Green Eyes hooked his arms around me own and sent both o us rolling down the hill. We didn't get far before the undergrowth stopped us but he yanked me up so quickly I could barely keep me feet as he herded me toward the river again. He kept us running until I couldn't breath then he pulled us off the trail and inte the brush. Our pursuers stopped in confusion. Maybe they had some of the color powder. I tried te go te them but Green Eyes held me still. Very strong, Green Eyes fer being so little. I started te call out te them but Green Eyes covered me mouth so I bit him. He didn't flinch. They were wearing white paint. Didn't me Indians were red and black? No matter – they all had the color powder. I tried again te get loose and then bit harder swallowing blood and grinding me teeth against bone. Something snapped under me teeth with a satisfying crunch. The Indians went off up the trail and I cried wanting me colors back. Green Eyes forced me jaws open with his other hand and slowly let me up. I started to bolt after them but Green Eyes caught me with his bloody hand and hit me hard with the other. Darkness._

_ I didn't like Green Eyes. I didn't like bird boat even if it was pretty. Water, water everywhere, and She wouldn't let me off the boat. I liked Her even less than Green Eyes. Days, and days, and days, and days, lots of days without me colors. Green Eyes making noises instead. Not nearly as nice. I glance away from Her te Green Eyes. Maybe I should pull on his pointy ears again – except he'd hit me last time I did that. He was making noises again but not te me. Good. _

_"No, Grin"_

_"He's a lost cause" I glanced back – that was a voice I'd never heard before and the noises made sense._

_"I don't believe in lost causes" Mr. Mallory snapped back "I just haven't figured out how to fix him yet."_

_"We both know there things you can't Heal. This is one of them."_

_"I've never tried before" Mr. Mallory protested._

_"You've been trying for a month. Congratulations, he's stopped drooling; now if you could just convince him to stop urinating on me life would be grand." _

_"What do you suggest?"_

_There was a long silence "The next time he tries to go overboard – tell Sea to let him."_

_"No" Mr. Mallory sounded furious._

_"Rhys" 'Who is Rhys?' I thought. "Rhys, please listen to me. You won't take him to __Port Royal__ and you can't keep him for the rest of his life. Is it concern for him or your own pride that won't let you concede defeat?"_

_"Why can't it be both? I know he did this to himself but his son isn't dead."_

_WILL WAS ALIVE?? – I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't seem to remember how to. I looked up at the full moon and down at myself. The curse was broken and Will was alive! Mr. Mallory didn't notice my pleading eyes as he continued arguing with the Peregrine. _

_"I'm not Christian to condemn a man to Hell Fire for committing suicide but I'd like to be sure he's done it with both a clear head and all the facts. Damn it Peregrine – he doesn't even understand that he'll drown. All he wants is that thrice benighted stuff he's been snorting up his nose for the better part of eight years."_

_"That's not your fault" the boat returned._

_"I know it isn't but I have a few more things I'd like to try before… It's not over yet, Grine."_

_The boat sighed "Just please don't do anything too reckless Rhys. You already came far closer than I like to ending up a shrunken head dispensing bad advice to some jungle shaman for the rest of eternity. He isn't worth it."_

_"Hey" Green Eyes protested indignantly – the words were blurring into noises again "how do you know it'd be bad adv…"_

_I didn't like bird boat. Even She was better. I wandered over and pissed on the mast._

_ Back with Indians but on an island – still water everywhere and they didn't have my color powder. Not fair. A presence behind me as I sat in the hammock starring out across the village. Bejeweled hands on me shoulders. Green Eyes again. The hands began to quiver slightly._

_"Bill? Please?"_

_I kept staring out hoping he'd go away. The hands moved one bracing against me neck the other cupping me chin. I stiffened tendrils o fear creeping up me spine. I turned and looked at Mr. Mallory but the bigger than a robin's egg ruby glinting like a third eye in the middle o his forehead caught me eye. Damn thing had te be worth a king's bloody ransom and that was ignoring the rest o the shine in that crown. Someone had painted his face up like a jungle Indian. I marveled that they had actually found a paint green enough te match his eyes._

_He sighed "Bugger all, Bill – what **am** I going to do with you?"_

_I didn't answer. A gentle touch and sleep claimed me._

_ I awoke to the sound of children's laughter. I open me eyes te the most ridiculous sight I had ever seen in me life. No, that simply could not be. I closed me eyes and reopened them. I did not believe it. Not even the most far fetched o the strange visions the powder had given me was that ludicrous. I rubbed me eyes before reopening them again. Alright – I've simply gone mad – or else Mr. Mallory has. Jack was right – Jack was always right. Mr. Mallory is daft as a loon. I sat up deciding I simply must have a better look. _

_ I'd had no clue Mr. Mallory could juggle. Actually he was as good as anyone I'd seen performing in me time at court. Never would have thought the utterly, unremittingly serious Mr. Mallory would indulge in such frivolity. But that wasn't the real shocker. That he would do it balancing on one foot on a rope with what looked suspiciously like the poison darts that had been shot at us was odd but not mind boggling. The flashing o his many ruby rings as his hands flew te keep the darts in the air was mesmerizing all on its own and I would never expect him te lay aside his crown. No, the real mind blower was that he seemed to have replaced every stitch o clothing with green and white body paint. The image o a pointy-eared, bejeweled elf standing butt naked in green paint on one leg juggling poison darts was not something I was **ever** going te forget. Not sure how long I just sat in the hammock blinking before I just burst out laughing. The children all whirled giving me wide-eyed looks before scattering like flushed grouse. Mr. Mallory neatly caught the darts (avoiding contact with the tips I noted), leapt nimbly off the rope and strode over te me. He still had that 'I own the world' walk. No sign o shame or modesty at all in spite o the fact his wardrobe consisted o jewelry and paint. I'd always rather considered Mr. Mallory te be something o a prude what with his avoiding the doxies and all. Apparently I was mistaken._

_"Who are you?"_

_"Ye know who I am." Both dark brows shot up._

_"Aye, I do but I'd like to know if you do" he replied eyes suddenly kindling. Good God, they were glowing. _

_"Bootstrap Bill Turner."___

_"And your real name?"_

_"William Blake."_

_"Where were you born?"_

_"__London__, __England__."_

_"What's 317 times 6?"_

_I thought a moment "1,902."_

_He threw back his head and crowed in triumph. Wouldn't have expected **that** o Captain Mallory either. He flashed his prefect white teeth at me "Damn, I am good."_

_He straddled the hammock alongside mine letting his legs with their wild green designs dangle over the sides while searching me eyes with his own. That grin got even wider "I **told** you I'd find a way!" he exclaimed to the breeze. Or to the Peregrine I suddenly realized as little bits o events trickled inte me mind. I took a better look at him while he was distracted and wondered how long it had been. Long enough that the cat-eyes and pointy ears seemed natural though I had a terrible yen te pull on the tips. I suddenly remembered that I had and had been cuffed for it._

_"You hit me" I said rubbing me chin._

_He was still grinning "You hit me first, you bit me – several times, you pulled my ears, you kick like a mule, and you tried to strangle me – you don't exactly have much room to complain, Bill."_

_I couldn't seem to make all the pieces fit. Some of the memories were like glass shards, brittle and cutting, others swirled away like the smoke in the wind._

_"Where are we?" I finally settled for asking._

_"Shamatari" he answered with a wave of a glittering green, white, and sun-bronzed hand "I'm not quite sure though if that's their name for the island or themselves. I suspect both." _

_"What happened?"_

_"After I hit you?__ I played hide-and-seek in unfamiliar territory with a dozen odd cannibals. When they got tired of dying I proceeded to schlep your uncooperative carcass to the Peregrine." He canted his head "You know for being as underfed as you are you still weigh a bloody ton."_

_That was a marvel all on its own. If me memory o that day in the forest was right then he couldn't weigh more much more than two stone to my eight. _

_"Ye shouldn't have bothered" I muttered. The curse being broken didn't change the fact that Kitty was gone. It didn't erase the memory o placing a stolen rose next te the stone me young son had carved te mark her resting place in the pauper's field. And it didn't undo the fact that that bastard Barbossa had murdered Will on account o me foolishness._

_"Perhaps not" he allowed "but it seems to me that you're being terribly selfish."_

_"How?__ There's no one left te miss me" I snapped angrily, angry at having been pulled back inte the light o life. Angry enough te lose both me fear o him and me discomfort at his naked state._

_"I think that your son might have a different opinion." _

_"Will's ALIVE?!" I recalled him saying it te the Peregrine but I hadn't really believed it. Truth told I didn't believe it even now, probably wouldn't until I saw him with me own eyes. But I couldn't deny that fer the first time in far too long I felt hope stirring. _

_Utterly earnest green eyes met and held mine "He is alive. In less than a month he takes a bride. I think he would be quite pleased te see his father among the wedding guests."_

_"Why?"_

_He arched one dark brow at me "While it hasn't been my personal experience it's been my observation that most lads like to spend time with their fathers."_

_"Not that. Why do ye keep doing it?"_

_He started juggling the poison darts again "Would you care to narrow that down? I do a great many things."_

_"Why do ye keep saving me? Newgate, New York, Seville, the cannon, and now this."_

_He caught the darts and locked them in a chest at his feet "Don't take this wrong, Bill, but it has never been just about you. Newgate was about Rhys Norrington and a promise I made a 167 years ago. As for __New York__ I already told you. Sparrow would never have forgiven himself if his stupidity had gotten you killed in __Seville__. As for the cannon I needed you to help me save Sparrow. Speaking of Captain Jack Sparrow I rather think he would also be well pleased to see you alive. I suppose you could call this time professional pride."_

_I didn't quite know whether I should be angry, confused, hurt, or relieved by that statement "Professional pride?"_

_"I tried more than once to reach you in the interior with the news of Will's survival but you were always too far inland. A little more than three months ago I was sitting, swathed in shadow, watching your son in a lip lock with the lady of his dreams and Jack Sparrow finally back where he belongs as Captain of the Black Pearl when it occurred to me that while Sparrow had turned the curse into a lovely happy ending it was still a bit shy of perfect."_

_Those faint stirrings o hope began to grow "What about that bastard Barbossa?"_

_"Shot dead, by Jack, to save your son's lady with the very same shot you loaded for him ten years ago."___

_I chuckled and it felt damn good. That was Jack fore and aft, no one else would have or could have held on te that same bloody ball fer ten years. Ten years – it suddenly occurred te me that I hadn't laughed in over ten years._

_"Those members of his band of miscreants that weren't out right killed by Norrington's men after Will broke the curse were made into a delightful set of wind chimes at Execution Point."_

_"Norrington?"___

_"Rhys Norrington's younger brother James commands the garrison and the Royal Navy vessels assigned to __Port Royal__."_

_It was a marvel sometimes how small the world really is._

_"But that's superfluous really. My point is that I decided as I was not cursing the whole bloody town of Port Royal that both Sparrow and your son's happy ending was missing a gent about so tall and answering to the name of Bill. And since neither Sparrow nor the whelp knew where to find you I resolved that you would be my contribution to events. Professional pride – you know fairy godfathers are supposed to have **something** to do with happily ever afters." He leveled a pale shadow of his normal glare at me "You have **not** been terribly cooperative Bill."_

_"Will and Jack together?"___

_Mr. Mallory just gave me a grin, God but he looked so much like a younger Jack, right down to the dark kohl under the eyes. "Not my tale to tell William Blake – if you want to know how your son saved Captain Jack Sparrow from the gallows you'll just have to ask one of them."_

_Just as I opened me mouth to protest me jaw sagged at the sight o the most beautiful lass I'd ever seen in me life. I was suddenly very glad I didn't share Mr. Mallory's naked state. I'd never betrayed me Kitty that way but I wasn't dead! She on the other hand had eyes only for him. Like Mr. Mallory she was wearing nothing but green and white paint. I ripped me eyes from her with difficulty and realized that I was the only one in clothes. The children went completely naked while the adults wore paint and a few beaded items that covered nothing important._

_"Pei, Ihiroithawe."_

_"Euo, Breimi." He waved a hand in my direction "Bill yanaiki." It was only when she offered me me pick o the tray o fruit she was carrying that I realized she had blue-gray eyes. 'Like the sea just before a storm' I thought. I shot Mr. Mallory a questioning look before picking up some of the fruit as me stomach gurgled in anticipation. _

_"The sole reason the European powers haven't stripped this island of both its people and native forest is that it's ringed in razor sharp reefs." He waved a hand toward the Peregrine in the little bay. "It's a lovely harbor **if** you can thread the maze into it." I looked out at the water. There wasn't so much as a ripple in the little cove but I shivered as I watched the breakers crash further out against hidden reefs. I'd seen once what they could do te a ship. I didn't ever want te see it again. "From time to time some fool attempts it. The Shamatari welcome whatever survivors there are into their midst. At this point there's probably as much European as Indian blood in them." _

_A man bedecked in more feathers than a flock of parrots smiled toothily at Mr. Mallory "Ihiroithawe Breimi heorope." _

_Mr. Mallory looked like a man cornered in a distinctly uncomfortable position and when he spoke I didn't need te know the meaning o the words. This was a courtier trying his damnedest te weasel his way out o a corner._

_About four or five sentences inte whatever he was blathering the lass broke inte tears and bolted. Both Mr. Mallory and Feather Man watched her before Feather Man spat at Mr. Mallory's feet. Te me everlasting surprise Mr. Mallory flushed deeply and hung his head afore rising to follow the lass at a leisurely pace. I swung out o me own hammock and set off in pursuit. Be damned if I was going te sit here while he wandered off God knows where. Mr. Mallory was no more than ambling but it wasn't long before I was struggling te keep up. He glanced back and then turned te wait fer me. Which gave me a much better view o Mr. Mallory in all his glory than I ever really needed though it did rather put te rest all o the eunuch rumors. I was used te pointy ears but not this which I took te mean we hadn't been here long. Too broad in the shoulders for the rest o him – which probably meant that one day he'd be a bigger man than Jack – not just taller but bulkier too. At the moment though he looked te be in that lanky coltish stage with arms and legs both a bit too long fer the rest o him. Or maybe that was just the way o his people. On the other hand he rippled when he moved – every muscle in relief. The artist at court could o used him for a model. As I finally caught up I looked down at his chest, not willing te meet his eyes and having no yen te look down further._

_"Ihiroithawe?"__ I asked._

_"It's who they think I am. Ihiroithawe is the spirit who controls the weather, particularly hurricanes. Watch those, they sting" he deftly maneuvered us away from a small stand o innocuous looking plants. "The first time I arrived Turaewe was beseeching Ihiroithawe to turn aside a hurricane. When I arrived and did exactly that" he shrugged "The Shamatiri decided I was Ihiroithawe regardless of my opinion on the matter. And since I have been manipulating their weather ever since I suppose it's close enough to true. Now Turaewe would like to cement things via a marriage alliance with his daughter."_

_"I take it you're not inclined te agree."_

_He sighed "She's a child."_

_I kept silent – but if I hadn't know better I'd have though him the younger o'em. That lass was no child. "Ye're unarmed."_

_"This is one of the few places where I have that option. For whatever reason this island is inaccessible from the Cynfyd, it is well protected by the ring reefs from the outside, there are no predators, and the Shamatiri themselves have nothing but slingshots. My blades are always left aboard Peregrine while I am here. Besides normally the Shamatiri strip anyone arriving here of all their mesoma. Items that are not traditionally Shamatiri don't last long. My blades have enough attitude as it is I don't even want to think of their reactions to a Shamatiri cleansing ritual." He gave me another grin "The only reason your clothes didn't go up in smoke is because I managed to convince them that you're a spirit like me and you need them for your magic."_

_I swallowed very, very glad I hadn't woken in nothing but paint "Do ye spend a lot o time here then?"_

_"Off and on for the last six years or so."__ He caught me arm. "Let's give her another few minutes."_

_"That lass thinks she's in love with ye" I said as we listened te her quiet weeping._

_He sighed and leaned against a tree "I never should have let it get this far but you grow up so bloody **fast**."_

_The lass looked te be fifteen or sixteen te Mr. Mallory's **maybe** fourteen but I knew he had te be over a hundred._

_"So why don't ye wed the lass?" 'Lord knows' I reflected 'if common wisdom aboard the Pearl had held that Jack Sparrow needed te be taken down a few pegs it equally held that 'stick-up-his-arse' Mr. Mallory was in dire need o a good lay._

_He pinched the bridge o his nose "It's complicated."_

_Bloody arrogant courtier "Don't ye mean she ain't good enough fer the likes o ye?"  
  
_

_If looks could kill (and it occurred te me that I had no proof **his** couldn't) then I died on the spot. And it'd be just me luck that on the very day I discovered I really did have something te live fer I'd end up dead. He pushed away from the tree without a word, stalked over te the lass, and gave her the gentlest o touches on the shoulder. Mr. Mallory was quite the charmer when he set his mind te it and if the hardened doxies o __Tortuga__ melted then this poor native lass didn't have a chance. A minute or two o native gibberish and she was giving him a smile as he dried her tears. She skipped down the trail ahead o him. He glanced back at me "Why don't you join us Bill?"_

_It was phrased as a request but it was a command – pure and simple and I didn't like the look in his green eyes at all._

_I glanced down at me scarred hands and shivered. White dagger or no Mr. Mallory was never unarmed._

_ I stepped out o the forest onte a small bluff overlooking the sea. Mr. Mallory was standing between two o the oddest contraptions I'd ever seen in me life. Both o them were painted like butterflies and looked te be made o silk and wood. The lass was wrapping some sort o harness around herself while Mr. Mallory nodded te the second whatever-it-was. _

_"I thought I might introduce you to something I gleaned from Da Vinci's works."_

_"Who?"___

_Mr. Mallory rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Breimi always wanted me to turn her into a butterfly. I'm afraid this is as close as my poor talents could come," he said as he wrapped the second contraption's harness around me. Breimi gave me a smile a man could lose himself in and Mr. Mallory shoved me off the bluff!!! _

_Jagged rocks!_

_Raging surf!_

_Reefs!_

_I let out a shriek o pure terror that the wind whipped away. I squeezed me eyes shut not wanting te see the end and suddenly me downward momentum stopped and I started going **up.**_

_"Our Father that art in heaven _

_Hallowed be Thy name._

_Thy kingdom come.___

_Thy will be done_

_On Earth as it is in Heaven._

_Give us this day our daily bread._

_And forgive us our trespasses_

_As we forgive those who trespass against us._

_Lead us not inte temptation_

_But **deliver** us from the evil one._

_For Thine is the kingdom and the_

_Power and the Glory forever.__ Amen" I muttered nearly incoherent with fear._

_"Matthew 6:9-13" Mr. Mallory's voice came from directly **below** me "and you can open your eyes. It's far too beautiful a day for flying to miss."_

_I shook me head, unable te catch me breath in the gale winds._

_Mr. Mallory sighed "Coward."_

_I peeked a little and panicked again at the sight o island and sea far below._

_"It's alright Bill" Mr. Mallory said soothingly._

_"Ye bloody son o a bitch! Ye put me down right now!" I screamed in the direction I'd last seen the bloody bastard._

_The wind stopped abruptly and I tumbled a few feet. _

_Mr. Mallory tsked "Do you honestly think this is a good time to insult my mother?"_

_The wind caught me again._

_"Now open your bloody eyes Bill before I do let you fall."_

_I pried them cautiously open. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was beautiful. The little island and the colorful reefs were spread out below us in all their glory. There was a ship off in the distance. Its white sails billowing te catch the wind. The lass laughed in sheer joy while Mr. Mallory hung in the air between us. I started te relax a bit still afraid o a sudden drop inte either sea or tree tops but God! Is this how angels feel?_

_After a bit Mr. Mallory landed us gently back on the bluff before touching down himself. He went down on his knees and it was only then that I realized sweat was pouring off him. The lass extracted herself from her harness and skipped off while I just stared at the tangle in more confusion than me first day aboard ship. After a couple o minutes Mr. Mallory came te me rescue. Damn but he looked exhausted as he slipped me free. _

_"What are those things?" I asked as we started back towards the jungle and the village._

_"Breimi calls them ahisha, butterflies. She wanted to fly with me so badly but I can't carry any kind of weight when I fly. Hell if you went off the bluff right now I'd be hard pressed to land us safely much less soar. The ahishas help but it still isn't easy." He accepted a leaf cup from her and drank like a hard run horse. I struggled te keep me eyes on her face instead o straying inte places no good Christian man ought te be looking. O course if I'd ever been a good Christian man the events o me life had taken me far afield and it'd been a **long** time. If Mr. Mallory wasn't interested in the lass then mayhap her father wouldn't mind a different spirit taking the wedding vows._

_I took a step toward her, smiling._

_"Bill?" there was a thread o warning in Mr. Mallory's voice. I glanced back at him "If ye aren't interested in the"_

_The next thing I knew I was up against a tree struggling for breath utterly convinced that all o me ribs were broken. I hadn't even seen him move._

_"Breimi iba yoma" he hissed up at me. I didn't need a translation, some things are primal and 'my woman' is one o'em. I swallowed and relaxed against the tree. I was a dead man. I could see it in those cat green eyes. He dropped me as abruptly as he'd attacked. I could see jealousy, anger, embarrassment, and confusion flash through his eyes. Some things are primal and some are instinctual – he hadn't meant te attack me. _

_"I meant no offense" I whispered in me own best soothing voice._

_He'd finally settled on anger "Get aboard the Peregrine. I'll meet you there presently."_

_As I turned te go I glanced at Breimi. Well, I might yet die fer me presumption but the lass at least looked like someone had handed her the moon on a platter. _

"So it is that ye found yerself a girl!" Jack crowed to his boots. Well, I guess if Mallory was under the hull somewhere that made a certain amount of sense.

"The only question** little** brother is why weren't ye wooing said strumpet?"

"Because he couldn't" I said looking at Jack like the daft idiot he was.

"Mallory wandering about without his bloody dagger? That says something, whelp. It says he considered it **safe** to be unarmed. And if he was safe enough to be unarmed then the lass was safe as well." He half turned and barked "Gibbs"

Mr. Gibbs looked like a man about to face the gallows. "Aye, Captain?"

"Would ye be so kind as te fetch me me charts o the coast o South America – that is providing that the lads haven't used those te wipe their arses as well."

"Course not, sir, safe and sound they are. I'll just be getting' em fer ye."

Jack put his hands together and set his chin on them while looking at his abused log book "I'm having a thought here, one that I don't like at all." He glanced back up at my father. "Yer pardon for the interruption, Bill, but me manners have suffered from me association with Mrs. Turner. The lass is a terrible influence. Ye best watch that she doesn't lead yer son astray." Jack gave Elizabeth a wink and glanced down her bodice as she leaned across as if to slap him. "Ah, ah isn't there someone else ye'd rather felt the back o yer hand?"

"His brother will do just fine in the interim." She cracked him good to emphasis the point but he still managed another lecherous look on her way back.

"Don't think I deserved that" he muttered.

"Captain Jack Sparrow" I growled "that's my **wife**."

"O course she is, whelp" Jack looked at me as if **_I_** was daft "I was even there to see ye slip the ring on her surprisingly firm hand." He rubbed his cheek and glanced back to my father "But we were speaking o a different jealous not-**quite**-husband."

"I didn't know what te expect te be awaiting me aboard the Peregrine…"

_ There was tense watchfulness aboard that was different from those terrible days both before Jack's rescue and its aftermath. It made the hair on the back o me neck stand up it did. Mr. Mallory had sent me on ahead in the dingy while he concluded a few matters ashore. I wondered if he'd fly te the ship as I paced the deck nervously and gave a rueful chuckle that seemed to be all I did on this bloody boat. _

_There was quite a bit of clicking and squealing te port just afore Mr. Mallory came over the rail. Odd that he actually did seem more naked without the paint. He must 'wear' the same pattern a lot because the only places where the Caribbean sun hadn't baked him a uniform golden brown was what the green paint had covered. He ignored me completely as he dressed in that silver outfit o his. I'd knelt before princes and kings and I'd never seen that much shine in one place. The three white, slightly sunken scars on the left side o his chest caught me eye. Never would have noticed 'em if the rest o him wasn't so tan. If the lowest on hadn't clipped his heart then it had come within a hair's breadth o it. Not another scar on him anywhere. Made me wonder 'bout 'em. I'd have also thought it impossible te get inte that get up without help but he managed. Odd I could o sworn as the breeze fanned his long unbraided hair that it was really dark blue instead o black. It was only after he'd tied off his braid with a red ribbon that he finally turned te me._

_"You have my profound apologies." God but he looked utterly discomforted. "I have no idea why I reacted as I did" he paused, nervously._

_'Cause yer in love, ye blooming idiot' I thought but I kept me mouth shut._

_He sketched a quick, fluttery bow "Your pardon" and nearly fled inte the rigging._

_As I watched him making ready te raise anchor it occurred te me that he really hadn't known. Six years off and on he'd been coming here. The lass **would** have been just a child then except she wasn't anymore and after today Mr. Mallory was going te have te quit lying te himself. _

_"Hey, lubber, quit woolgathering and get moving."_

_I glanced up to see what he was doing and then grabbed the appropriate rope "I thought this thing sailed itself."_

_"**His** name is Peregrine. Yes, he can, for that matter so can Pearl." He dropped back down onte the deck. "But you need the exercise and he's not speaking to me right now which is why we put into Shamatiri in the first place." _

_I suppose that explained that sense of watchful anger from earlier. As I worked the lines and swallowed me heart with every passing outcrop as we cautiously threaded our way back inte the open sea it occurred te me that I might be a large part o the problem._

_"I'm very sorry and I promise not te do it anymore" I whispered feeling like an utter fool but I had relieved meself all over this ship. I wouldn't be terribly happy with me either. I resolved te give him a through scrub tomorrow. Ma always said actions speak louder than words. Now that we were in the clear Mr. Mallory scrambled back up the rigging to loose the rest o the sails. I tried te follow but me muscles were twitching with fatigue. I slumped down onte the deck with spots afore me eyes. _

_Mr. Mallory caught me "Take it easy, Bill."_

_"But I barely did anything" I protested breathlessly._

_"You did more than you've done in years. Don't worry a couple weeks of good food and exercise and you'll be fine." he slipped an arm around me and proceeded te dump me on the bed o the cabin I'd used ten years ago. "You just rest a bit." I never even heard the door shut…_

_God but something smelled wonderful. Mr. Mallory popped his head in the door, gave me a completely proper servant's bow, and said with merry eyes "Would you prefer supper in bed, in the wardroom, or on deck, mi'lord?"_

_This playfulness was something I'd never seen meself before today but Jack had always sworn it was there. I might actually have to apologize for a** few** o the times I'd called him daft._

_I cleared me throat and replied in me best approximation o a courtier "I believe, sir, that the only conceivable local for our repast is at the table."_

_Mallory arched one dark brow "Bill, you have absolutely **no** future in acting. The wardroom it is, sir." _

_Mr. Mallory on the other hand had proper servant down pat. I ran a hand over me close shorn hair and appraised meself in the mirror. When had all that grey appeared? There hadn't been any a few, damn, **not **a few, **eight** years. Eight years wasted. I met the gaunt stranger in the mirror's eyes again. I looked terrible even under the neatly trimmed beard. This made the second time Mr. Mallory had pulled me back after I'd let meself go te hell. I turned away from the stranger in the mirror and gave meself a quick scrub with the water and toiletries that he'd left me. I fingered the fresh clothes he'd laid out for me. Those years in the court had taught me more than I'd ever needed te know about fabrics and foppery. Unlike Jack I knew just how rich these really were. I had te grin remembering all Jack's complaints about his plain cloths when he'd been far richer dressed than he'd ever realized. It wasn't just the flash that made cloths valuable it was the fabric and the workmanship and these were finer than anything I'd worn as that bastard Churchill's man at court. I felt a grin tugging at me lips at the thought of Captain Jack Sparrow back on the __Pearl__. Almost ten years – I wondered what changes ten years out o Mr. Mallory's protection had wrought in Jack. Speaking o me host he was probably wondering what had become o me. I dressed quickly and stopped in the doorway staring at the table set with the finest china, silver, and crystal. Me pointy-eared companion emerged from the small galley with a tray bearing the plump bird I'd smelled earlier._

_"Would you like some Medira? or perhaps a fine __Burgundy__?"_

_"Rum?"__ I asked._

_His face fell a little "I'm afraid Sparrow drank every drop aboard before he disembarked ten years ago and given my opinion of the stuff I never restocked. I do have mead, coffee, tea, small beer, and ale, would you prefer one of those?"_

_I shook me head in confusion "But I've never seen ye drink aught but water."_

_He canted his head "I rarely do, I dislike the taste of alcohol, tea and coffee affect me…oddly, I do rather enjoy pineapple juice but it doesn't keep terribly well. What would you like?"  
  
_

_"Then why do you stock all o that?"_

_"It is, I must admit, a quaint conceit on my part but in spite of being a hunted fugitive I am trying to have some semblance of a life. Peregrine is poorly suited to cargo but he's an excellent vessel for wealthy individuals seeking swift passage and I do like to entertain. So, sir, your beverage of choice is?"_

_"Small beer" I muttered staring at the table again._

_"Your pardon, Bill" and the settings became something far humbler and I looked up into Captain Mallory's utterly round human eyes. "Is this more to your liking?"_

_I shivered a little "Just show me what's real, please."_

_And we returned to the fine elegance and pointy-ears "Are you certain?"_

_"Yes."_

_He gave me a brief bow and returned a moment later from the galley with a richly worked silver tankard of small beer. He set it before me and slid in opposite. If the accent had marked him as a courtier watching him eat marked him as (literally) a cut above. It was like watching a bloody dance._

_He paused "Is something amiss? If you dislike fowl there is some preserved beef and pork in the larder and I could always have Sea provide some fish. Would you"_

_"Why?" I interjected to stop the flow o words "Ye're a bleeding **PRINCE** why in God's name are ye deferring te the likes o me?"_

_He laid his cutlery aside "First because you are my guest this time and I do believe that a host has certain obligations. Second" he sighed and waved to a small collection of old pistols "I have been beaten, flogged, sent to stake and block, told by those who at least claim to be wiser than I that I am courting insanity, marooned, and threatened many times for no other cause than Healing. For the horrid crime of saving a life" he chuckled mirthlessly. "Human illogic never ceases to boggle my mind. But in all that time I can count on my fingers the number of times I have actually been **asked** to Heal. Only once have I **ever** refused. In the cold light of logic it was impossible. As I am I am incapable of reaching London, there are more than a few very nasty beings just waiting for me to enter the narrow seas, your wife would never have survived long enough for you to bring her to me, and even if you did my ability to heal consumption is notoriously erratic. My head knows very well I am blameless but my heart says I'm a coward, a cad, and a royal arse for not at least trying." Cat-slitted green eyes met mine before dropping to his plate "I am **truly** sorry."_

_"So am I" I muttered suddenly no longer hungry. I started to push away from the table but Mr. Mallory caught me hand. _

_"You need to **eat**, Bill. You're not me. You can't endure without sustenance and you've done your body no favors of late." I started as he glared at me but I could see the gently teasing light under it "All else aside, I'm a damn fine cook and I don't like seeing my efforts go to waste." He canted his head "Don't you want to look your best when you see your son?"_

_I settled back at the table and took a bite. Who'd have ever thought a courtier knew what cooking was much less how to do it, and to do it superbly. Te bloody hell with appearances I dug in like the starving man I was. As I was sopping up the last juices and picking the last bits o flesh off the bird Mr. Mallory gave me a grin, "Nice to see that my humble fare is appreciated."_

_"Where did a courtier learn **that?**"_

_He shrugged "I have played many roles through the years. I picked up a bit here and a bit there though the sauce that truly sets the whole thing off I learned from my mother. Tastes wonderful but it's absolute misery to get off once you've been marinated in it."_

_I decided not to ask as he studied me with a frown. I shifted nervously wondering what was wrong._

_"My skills as a tailor on the other hand seem to have suffered of late" he shook his head "too much mending sails and not enough fine work. We'll have to readjust your outfit for the wedding just before we arrive in Port Royal but for now I think it's time of you went back to bed."_

_I fingered the little touches o embroidery on the, te me eyes anyway, perfect shirt "Ye made this."_

_"Sh-sh, I'd rather not admit to it" he retorted as he rose gracefully and gathered the dishes "Now shoo."_

_Bloody, thrice benighted, annoying arse windows! The morning sun was an assault on the senses as it streamed in through all that bleeding glass. I tried te put a pillow over me eyes but the movement sent a shock o agony through muscles that hadn't been put through their paces in far too long. What began as a groan ended in a whimper inte me pillow but those pointy-ears seemed te have heard me anyway since the door opened almost immediately._

_"Lay on your stomach" it was an order this time in Captain Mallory's tone if not his voice. There was a jangle of rings being removed and then a set o nimble but firm fingers attacked me shoulders. It began as agony and ended as ecstasy. As the clink o rings indicated he was finished I sat up every ache banished "Now that was magic."_

_He made a sound like wind on water "Not at all, clearly Bill, thou hast never been to __Singapore__. Very educational, __Singapore__."___

_Jack had said something similar, I recalled as I followed him up onte the deck. Made me wonder what I'd missed but I forgot all about that at the first whiff o breakfast._

_I dropped the brush back into the bucket bone tired. And was greeted by a basin._

_"Wash up and eat" to my surprise he took over the scrubbing. _

_"What are ye doing?"_

_He gave the brush a considering look. The last three days had taught me that Mr. Mallory had a far better sense of humor than I'd have ever guessed and that he was every bit as odd as Jack had claimed. He glanced up at me "I appear to be scrubbing. I could, of course, be wrong I suppose. What do you think I'm doing?"_

_"I know ye're scrubbing the bloody deck. Are ye absolutely sure ye're a bloody Prince?"_

_"Sh-sh, Peregrine is still annoyed enough with both of us. Don't add insult to injury. I assure you I am a Prince" his eyes lit with a feral gleam that had the hair on the back o me neck standing at attention "and one day when I kill my sire I will be King. I am, I assure you far more proud than those fools who make a mockery of true Blood Right but unlike them scrubbing a deck diminishes neither my dignity, nor my honor, nor my overweening pride. Now" he continued scrubbing with an efficiency o motion that bespoke far more experience than I had "if you're finished you'd better go enjoy your last night in a bed until __Port Royal__."_

_"Huh?"_

_"I promise someone I would deliver a cargo for them. We put in tomorrow to load the ship."_

_"But this isn't a cargo vessel."_

_"No, he isn't which is why the cargo is going in the cabins while we end up sleeping under the stars for a few nights. Bed, Mr. Blake, now."_

_ It was odd listening te the hustle and bustle o a port after so long in the jungle. Mr. Mallory (it felt terribly odd te see him **without** the pointy-ears and not looking a bit like his real self) was discussing somewhat with the harbor master. I gave him one last glance just in case he'd changed his mind but he appeared te completely ignore me which wasn't true o course – it just meant I was te do as he'd told me. _

_ I wandered the market at a loss wishing that Mr. Mallory had come along. I didn't know Will, not really, and Mr. Mallory had been completely mum about both the boy and his lass how was I te find an appropriate gift?_

_"As I live and breathe" a familiar voice boomed behind me "if it ain't Bootstrap Bill." The pat on the back was almost enough te take me off me feet._

_"Peterson" I breathed when the assault was over. _

_The great bear o a man grinned at me "Good te see ye Bill. Come have a drink with an old shipmate and tell me where ye been." As if I had a choice with one o Peterson's great arms wrapped around me shoulders. Not that I was adverse te a drink o rum in a proper dockside tavern. Mr. Mallory might be the finest cook alive and he did try te keep up a lively conversation but he. Oh, bugger all, he weren't human and he was bloody royalty and both showed when he wasn't playing at being someone else. _

_ The tavern was everything a proper dockside dive should be except that it was empty this early in the day. Peterson thumped two rough wooden tankards onte the battered table in front o us. Mr. Mallory **is** right – horse piss probably does taste better but give me rot-gut rum any day over that high brow stuff._

_"Wish ye'd have been here a fortnight ago, Bill. Ye'll never guess who was here asking after ye." He leaned over the table "**Captain** Jack Sparrow. Could have knocked me over with a feather when I seen them black sails rounding the point and seen that little banty rooster proud as ye please at the wheel." Peterson grinned "Still just as full o hisself as ever. Was damn tempted te hit him but I swear I could still feel ol' Captain Mallory's green glare. God, but he had us afeerd te even look crosswise at the lad. Got me te missing ye'all something fierce and missing them days on the __Pearl__ with Captain 'Stick up his arse' Mallory. Good Cap't though. Knew how te bloody well take care o his men." Peterson raised his tankard "Te the Captain – wherever the wind blew him" and drained it. Just as he was rising a shot rang out the bullet sinking deep inte the wood. Me first thought as I darted under the table was how in the name o God do ye **miss **Peterson? I've sailed in bloody ships that were smaller than the man. Peterson upended both our table and the one next te us and looked cautiously around the edge. They missed him – again. I was beginning to get the notion that the safest person in the bloody room was the target. I was just about te ask what in blazes this was all about when smoke began te curl about our feet. The shots had never been meant te kill just te keep us inside long enough fer the fire te catch. Te hell with hiding behind a bloody table! I dashed te the rear door but there was already an inferno raging and even through the wall o flames I could pick out armed men. I coughed me lungs already burning from the thick black smoke. Peterson met me eyes from the front door with a near panicked shake o the head. So we weren't getting out that way either. Just as I set foot on the stairs Mr. Mallory spoke dryly from behind me._

_"I swear, Bill, you're nearly as bad as Sparrow. I turn my back for five minutes and here you are trying to become part of a human bonfire. Honestly, I am beginning to think you need a nursemaid." _

_I just blinked at him in shock as he stood there calmly lecturing as the building blazed around us. I darted over and grasped Peterson arm and we started dragging his bulk towards the rear doorway which was now clear o both flames and men. There was a crash and a terrified wail from overhead. Mr. Mallory froze a moment, looking up, and then yanked the bandolier o pistols I hadn't even noticed over his own head and slipped it over mine._

_"Get him out of here. Make for the docks. I'll catch up after I've gotten them out. Make every shot count."_

_He was gone in a swirl o smoke – carrying enough powder te blow a ship inte an inferno. I breathed a prayer fer the brave fool and the poor souls upstairs and put me back inte pulling Peterson clear._

_I shivered as I maneuvered Peterson around the dead men. The bodies were stark reminder te something that the last few days had nearly made me forget. For all his charming graciousness Mr. Mallory was also the most efficient killer I'd ever met. I tucked one o the dead men's pistols inte me belt in addition te the four Mr. Mallory had passed me with the sinking feeling I was going te need it. I'd have taken more but I was out o good places te put another. And I'd drug this great lout far enough. I gave him a solid slap across the face and he moaned. I followed it with a teeth rattling shake. He blinked up at me._

_"Are we dead?"_

_"No but we might be if ye don't get moving." I put words te action and started making tracks fer the docks. Peterson heaved his bulk up and caught up easily. For being as big as he is Peterson is surprisingly quick on his feet. I threw meself around a corner as a shot rang out. Peterson joined me with a groan._

_I cocked a pistol and looked around the corner "How bad?"_

_"Just a graze" he hissed back. I spared him a quick glance. There was a fair bit o blood on his left shoulder but he seemed alright otherwise. Damn, but we were pinned again. The only good thing being that while we couldn't get out without becoming easy targets they couldn't get at us without coming inte me sites. Not that I was too terribly impressed with their marksmanship but it only took one lucky shot. I had exactly five shots and if Mr. Mallory didn't come we would be at their mercy. At least I hadn't heard any explosions – given the amount o gunpowder he was packing if the fire had gotten him there would be no missing it. On the other hand I had no assurances that a well placed bullet wasn't just as fatal te him as te us. I squeezed off a shot and watched one o the men drop. His fellows backed off in surprise and I grinned tightly. Not many could have made so clean a shot from this distance. I wondered again what the hell had Peterson done? Whatever it was men were willing te die over it. I dropped a second man and prayed Mr. Mallory reached us afore I ran out o ammunition since neither Peterson nor I were any kind o swordsmen. I missed a third target as Peterson's weight jostled me arm. I cursed under me breath and glanced down at me erstwhile mate. Unconscious again. The wound wasn't that bad – so what was the matter with the man? I wrapped me fingers around the butt o the fourth pistol wishing for all that shot and powder Mr. Mallory had brought with him. _

_Another bullet – another man dead.__ I said a quick prayer for his family as I wrapped me hand around the last loaded pistol. Or at least I hoped it was loaded since it was the one I'd taken off the dead man. I peeked around the corner, watching the men farther down the street, waiting for a clean shot. Me last shot. I wondered how the hell I'd ended up here and what I was murdering these poor fools over. There. I fired and dropped my chosen man. Another pistol cracked nearly simultaneously directly **behind** me. I whirled as another man dropped dead at me feet revealing Mr. Mallory, smoking gun still in hand. He tossed me two more pistols and cracked Peterson across the face hard enough te split his lips in at least three places._

_"Captain Mallory?" Peterson blinked up at him in confusion._

_Mr. Mallory dropped shot and powder alongside him "You reload for Bill, Mr. Peterson." He caught Peterson's jaw in his own and forced his head up "And if you faint again you won't have to worry about what Captain O'Rourke will do to you because I won't leave enough of you left for him to play with, are you understanding me?"_

_"Aye, aye, Captain Mallory, sir."___

_I shivered as I turned to watch the front o our little nook. On one hand having him at me back made me feel utterly safe knowing that nothing would get past those keen green eyes on the other he was more frightening than all our attackers combined. Interesting how we'd fallen so easily back inte our roles from the __Pearl__. I'd aimed and fired me cannon on __Pearl__ but it was Peterson who loaded it and Captain Mallory we both trusted te find us a way out o anything. _

_"Mr. Peterson" how in God's name did he remain so calm? "It has come to my attention that you have claimed something that Captain O'Rourke thinks belongs to him. What are your intentions?"_

_"Completely honorable, Captain" was Peterson's fierce reply as he handed me another gun. He was loading faster than I could find targets. I allowed meself a grim grin – Mr. Mallory wasn't the only one capable o being deadly and the men down the street were a hell o a lot more cautious now. "And the lass would have yer eyes out fer saying she was ever that bastard's."_

_"Ah, well you'll pardon me if I don't make your lady's acquaintance, then. Once was far more than enough." _

_"No thank you Mr. Peterson, best to leave the guns to those who wield them to best effect. That is the real trick to leadership you know, to find each man's perfect niche and leave him there."_

_"Captain?"___

_I dropped another target while wondering what the blazes was being discussed behind me._

_"I rather think that should do. Speaking of men in their proper places would you be so kind as to do the honors?"_

_Something was lobbed over me head and the street became an inferno._

_I threw up a hand te shield me face before turning around. There were four more dead men at Mr. Mallory's feet and I'd never even had a clue the scuffle had happened behind me. Mr. Mallory was giving the blaze a thoughtful look._

_"Perfect" he finally said before sheathing his long white dagger "Gentlemen I think we can now return to the docks in reasonable safety. Mr. Peterson, best of luck to you with the future Mrs. Peterson."_

_I practically had te trot te keep up as Mr. Mallory led the way back te the Peregrine. _

_It was only after we were back out te sea that Mr. Mallory dropped his illusion and became once more, te me eyes, the pointy-eared elfling._

_"Why do ye look like the cat that ate the bloody canary?"_

_"Why shouldn't I?" he replied with a trace o surprise. "I got my cargo successfully loaded; I removed a pirate captain and his band of cutthroats that would have become a serious nuisance at the very least and perhaps something more in the next few weeks. In the course of doing so I saved a young woman from, without being overly dramatic, a fate worse than death, and instead gave her the possibility of a happily ever after with a man she's come to love. A man who is, if not a friend, at least an erstwhile compatriot and who would have most certainly died if we hadn't intervened. All without upsetting our somewhat tight timetable" he went back te grinning, pleased as punch._

_"Men died back there."_

_"But only the ones I intended to. The children in the tavern were a bit of a miscalculation but they're fine."_

_ One day you're going to miscalculate fatally, Rhys _

_I shook me head. Bloody hell, now I was hearing voices._

_"Ah, so you do still have a voice" Mr. Mallory replied as me own eyes went wide. The Peregrine, I could hear the bloody Peregrine. Just barely, it was little more than a whisper but it was clear. "Why is it you can't be bothered to chat but you can still chide?"_

_ You take too many risks _

_Mr. Mallory made a dismissive noise._

_ What did **you** gain today, Rhys? Not a damn thing. You put yourself in harm's way for a woman you've never met and a man you don't even particularly like. And why? For a whim. For someone else's shot at a 'happily ever after'. And it's hardly the first time – why? _

_"Why not?"___

_ I don't know why I even bother the boat spat._

_Mr. Mallory sighed giving the wheel a pat "I'm sorry it upsets you. But damn it 'Grine I can't always play it safe."_

_ Who asked for always? I'll settle for occasionally, or at all. Damn it, do you know just how many times you've hovered on the edge of death? _

_"Actually, yes, I do."_

_ An entire kingdom gunning for you and you have to go out and pick more fights. Take that idiot over there. I know what you had to do to yourself to get that far inland. I know how many **weeks** of preparation it took. And I know just how vulnerable you were in that jungle – what if one of those darts had hit you? And don't tell me you can't be poisoned because we both learned different _

_"That was over a hundred years ago."_

_ It was memorable. **Three MONTHS** in a coma, Rhys. You stopped breathing **eight** times. I really, truly thought you were gone forever more than once _

_"I survived."_

_ With a still ticking time bomb in your chest.__ What happens if you push too hard and rupture that?? And we still don't know what the final result of your little 'experiment' with Blake is going to be, do we? To you or to him. You're playing with more something more dangerous than fire, Rhys, how long until it blows up in your face? And for what? Your PRIDE. It isn't about Cennan, it isn't about Jack Sparrow, and it isn't about Blake it's about the fact that **you **can't handle the fact **you've** been completely shut out. _

_The green eyes lit with rage "No. It is not. Give me a little more credit than that, Grine."_

_There was a long pause._

_ If Mannwan, Argellion, and the Altude weren't already dead I'd kill them myself _

_"You've never hurt a living thing" Mr. Mallory scoffed._

_ For what they did to you I'd make an exception the boat hissed._

_Mr. Mallory frowned in confusion "They never did anything to me."_

_ Train ye up a child, Rhys, and they taught you to never except any limitation or defeat _

_"And this is a problem?!"_

_ I don't think you realize just how mercilessly hard they drove you. Grit and determination are admirable, Rhys, but you've made them into obsessions and one day either body or spirit is going to break forever if you don't slow down and learn that you DO have limits _

_Mr. Mallory made another dismissive sound "Worry wart." He stepped away from the wheel and turned toward me._

_"It's time to do a little custom tailoring on that outfit of yours" he said before threading his way through the tight quarters below "Watch your footing. The loading got a little rushed and a few of the crates broke."_

_'A few?'__ I wondered as I slipped and slid in a river o beads. More beads than I'd ever seen in one place in me whole life in every kind and type known te man._

_Mr. Mallory tossed me some clothes "Put those on and meet me back up on deck where we still have room to breath."_

_As I shrugged inte easily the handsomest outfit I'd ever worn in me life there was a crash from his cabin followed by what could only be the sound of more beads raining onte the decking and some particularly vitriolic cursing. I decided te retreat onte the deck. The Peregrine snickered._

_ Mr. Mallory tugged at the same hem for the third (fourth?) time._

_ Obsessive perfectionist the Peregrine accused._

_"Who asked you? Besides what's wrong with doing a thing correctly?"_

_I decided silence was golden._

_ If Blake had any guts at all he'd walk away. It looks fine _

_He rose, took a step back, and ran a critical eye over me. He snorted and went back to the offending hem "Boats should not make comments about fashion." He caught me with a green glare "If you fidget again I'm going to nail you in place" he threatened. It would have been much easier to take him seriously if it wasn't for the three beads that had gotten hung on his crown. I'd been hoping that the Peregrine would tell him that he looked ridiculous with them dangling there but you could almost taste the boat's amusement. _

_A cold, hard knot of terror had been building in me guts ever since I'd come up on deck. This was real. Tomorrow we would sail __inte__Port__ Royal, tomorrow I would attend me only child's wedding. What was I going te say?? How do I explain? Would he hate me for abandoning me? What about the lass and **her** family? My temples were pounding and me mouth was so dry ye'd have thought I'd been sucking on a wad o cotton._

_"Bill" Mr. Mallory gave me shoulder a gentle touch and I looked down inte his green eyes. Odd, me head knew just how much shorter and slighter he was than me but it struck me anew._

_"What's amiss?" how could so cold a killer sound so compassionate?_

_"What am I going te say? He's going te hate me" I whispered desperately._

_He shook his head and one o the beads came loose and hit his eye. He flinched and rubbed it. The kohl didn't smear. Did he use some sort o magic? I looked more carefully and realized what I'd taken te be kohl was in point o fact deep, dark circles. The youthful skin and the bright, determined eyes made it easy not te notice all the other signs o stress and strain but once ye detected one the others became obvious. I nearly reached out meself as he pulled the crown off and picked the other beads off o it and then shook his head sending several more beads that I hadn't seen bouncing across the dark boards. He turned back te me "He isn't going to hate you, Bill. I doubt once you explain that he's even going to be angry with you."_

_"But I abandoned him" the weight o nearly twenty years slammed inte me. How do ye even begin te surmount that?_

_"There's a difference between abandonment and fleeing for your life. He'll forgive you."_

_I remembered that homicidal gleam in eyes "Ye hate yer father" I whispered._

_He damn near growled as the mere mention lit something that had me heart hammering in his eyes. I was surprised he managed te speak at all "And he earned it in spades."_

_"He's the one that put ye in the oubliette" I breathed feeling the fool fer not realizing it afore._

_"The oubliette was the tip of the proverbial ice burg, Bill" he ground out._

_Seventy-seven years, what kind o bastard could do that te his son? The worst kind o courtier – the kind that cared for nothing but power. I'd seen a few o'em so obsessed that nothing else existed, not decency, nor honor, nor any bond o blood or friendship. I felt a great swell o pity rise up in me for the poor little lad, cause no matter how old he was as we reckoned it he was clearly still a boy te his own kind._

_He snarled and this time it was directed at me "Don't even start, Bill. I'll make you a deal. Don't pity me for what I've suffered and I won't pity you for all the things you'll never do. All the marvels your merely human eyes can't see. The sounds those round ears can't hear." He fussed a moment with the offending hem. "It'll do. Take it off and get some sleep."_

_ I turned restlessly sleep the furthest thing from me mind. Mr. Mallory shifted a little in his hammock. His breathing picked up and his eyes danced under closed lids. His hands clenched the ropes o the hammock in a white knuckled grip as he muttered "Naddo" several times. Suddenly the green eyes flew open. He sighed heavily and the rolled out o the hammock te pace the deck in that same tight, enraged manner I'd seen on so many night watches on the Pearl. After a while he flung himself back inte the hammock and stared up._

_"I'm going to miss them" he said softly._

_"Miss what?" no sense in pretending te be asleep._

_"The stars, among so many other things.__ No stars Under the Hill in Avalon. No moon either in the Sunless lands. No horizon. I'm going to miss them when I am King." He glanced over at me "Would you like me to charm you to sleep?"_

_I shook me head._

_"As you like" he said still staring up._

_"I never thanked ye" I said glancing down at the deck "and I should've. So I'll say it now, thank ye, and beg yer pardon for not saying it earlier."_

_"It's alright, if I ever expected gratitude from humans I learned better long ago. And you're quite welcome, Bill." He looked and sounded so young by the light o the half moon as he folded himself up cross-legged in his hammock. _

_"What's it like?"_

_"Avalon?" he shrugged "I don't know, not really, of the eighty-three years I spent in Avalon seventy-seven were in an oubliette and the other six were either under the equivalent of house arrest or in… less pleasant places." His lips twitched but it wasn't a smile "It's likely that my formal coronation will be my first real sight of my Kingdom. If I last that long" he whispered and then tossed his head defiantly, eyes glittering as if daring the night itself. He waved a hand and the ships' lamps lit. "If neither of us is going to sleep there's no sense in sitting in the dark. Are you hungry or thirsty?"_

_I shook me head far too nervous fer either. He gave me an amused smile "A game o backgammon then?"_

_ I gave the board a rueful look. It was another slaughter. I could excuse some o me poor performance on me distracted state but the truth was I was far out o me league. Mr. Mallory rose and wandered te the rail looking east._

_"Bill would you be so kind as to join me?"_

_I glanced at the near dawn sky in surprise and then moved te the rail._

_"There's nothing in the world like a dawn, **nothing**. Some men will say it's just a bit of color. Dragon's Blood how I pity them. That they can't see that each one is different and unique. That they don't hear the horizon calling them to something new and different. No matter what disaster yesterday has dealt, no matter how dark and drear the night has been every dawn that you live to see holds a promise that tomorrow just might be better. How can you humans lose hope so easily when every morning the sunrise sings a new song? How can you not see it and marvel? How can you be blind to its glory?" He pulled his eyes away with difficulty to look at me "I've pulled you out of the ashes Bill and given you a new dawn" He couldn't keep his eyes off the horizon and they slid away from mine "the only question is what will you do with it?" I let me eyes wander from the sunrise te the bulk o __Jamaica__ just appearing te the north and wondered the same meself._

"Hate te interrupt again, Bill, but we're losing the most important member o the audience" Jack said.

I blinked fighting sleep. I wanted to hear this. I needed to and I had the feeling that getting my father talking again might not be easy but my lids slid shut anyway.

**Anthropological note: **(just for a change of pace J) The Amazonian Indians did (and likely still do) use a number of hallucinogenic drugs. Most of these (known as epene among the Yanomama) are blown up the nostrils. Along with producing highly colorful visions they also cause the user to excrete copious amounts of bright green snot. The shamans use these drugs in moderate amounts for decades with no sign of permanent damage or diminishment of metal acuity. But there is a second set of drugs that are considered too powerful for anything but shamanic initiations and desperate circumstances. These produce black snot and they are what I have Bill taking. I have no idea whether this second set of drugs would produce permanent brain damage but the fact that the shamans are much more careful about their use says something. Ihiroithawe is the Yanomama spirit of driving rain and clouds. The handful of names and words used in this chapter are all legitimate Yanomama or Yekuana words gleaned out of ethnographies. I couldn't find a word for butterfly - ahisha is actually a kind of bird.

**Historical note: **The bit with the pirates roasting some poor (in the sense of no money) woman really happened but I'm not sure if it was Vera Cruz or not with my library 40 miles away I'm not inclined to hold up posting to check…


	12. Three Weddings Part A To Wed a Swann

Author's Notes: see bottom 

**xImmortalx**** – **In the interests of your domestic tranquility I'm breaking this one into thirds :-D

**Falcon's Wing – **Mallory's take on Jack's longevity is slated for one of his journal entries (when we get that far).

**PirateBlacksmith**** – **Ellennar blushes under the praise, attempts a Malloryesque bow, and lands on bum.

Blood of Avalon 

**Chapter 11 – Three Weddings: Tales of Determine Damsels, Distressed Pirates, and a Devious (or possibly just Demented) Elf – Part a – To Wed a Swann**

"I don't like it" my father murmured.

Jack sighed "Can't say that I care for it much meself."

"It bodes ill."

"Don't like what?" I asked.

The new risen sun glinted off of Jack's golden teeth "Nice te see ye back in the waking world whelp. I was beginning to doubt yer bonny lass was yer one true love."

Sometimes I really do wonder about Jack but another much more pressing need made itself felt. Without even thinking about it I swept the thin blanket off, stood, and nearly fell. My father's strong arm slid around me.

"Gently son." I paused a moment to find my balance and then took a cautious step forward. I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving that I seemed to be regaining my strength. No completely, not yet, but much, much better. Elizabeth stirred, gave me a heart melting smile, and whispered "I'll fetch you something to eat." My stomach gurgled enthusiastically. I was absolutely ravenous. My father and Jack shadowed me to the head but I made it without mishap. I had less success on the return trip and I ended up with my father supporting most of my weight.

"What is it you don't like?"

He frowned "This is the second sunrise with no sign o Mr. Mallory."

We nearly stumbled as I suddenly stopped "Where is he?"

"In the hold, in one of **those** moods" Jack replied darkly. "But that's never stopped him from watching the dawn before. He never missed one, not in thirteen bloody years."

If there was one thing I'd learned on our previous adventure it was that Captain Jack Sparrow is **NOT** a morning person. I settled back onto the pallet, accepted a bowl (nice to see the galley still had at least one) of soup from Elizabeth, and dug in with gusto. Elizabeth looked quite pleased with herself so this must be hers. Well, at least one good thing had come of being shot. I glanced up from the bowl and caught my father's attention with difficulty. He clearly didn't want to meet my eyes.

"If you were there why didn't you say anything? Why didn't Mallory?"

He closed his eyes and sighed "Mr. Mallory didn't at the wedding on account that I begged him te let me speak te ye in me own time. He wasn't happy about it but he allowed that it was me choice, that is until we spotted that bastard among the guests. He told me if I hadn't said anything by yer first anniversary that he would. That yer life might depend on it." He was twisting a piece of rope in his hands looking near tears. "When the time came and went I figured he'd told ye."

Jack reached across and grabbed my father's arm "He told ye, Bill, in no uncertain terms that he intended to speak to the whelp last **May**?"

"Aye, he did."

Jack sat heavily on the edge of my pallet and positively glared at me "And ye didn't see him whelp, received no word that ye might be in danger?"

"Nothing" I shook my head a little surprised at Jack's sudden intensity.

Jack blinked up at Bill "he never missed a deadline, not ever."

I set the bowl aside carefully before giving my father a glare of my own "What happened?"

"It was like this, son…__

_ As the sun finally cleared the horizon Mr. Mallory finally turned his attention to the north. He canted his head a moment with one pointy ear flicked forward to cup the wind and then grinned devilishly._

_"Ah, yes, perfect" and with a flourish he was replaced by Lord Bellington in all his yellow and black 'glory'. _

_"Ye consider…that, perfect?"_

_Lord Bellington's too wide hazel eyes met mine as he fussed with an ornate sleeve. I felt a chill go up me spine. Seeing him flicker between Captain Mallory and the elfling seemed almost natural but seeing him become someone else was downright frightening. When he switched between them all the little mannerisms remained the same. The elfling might be a bit less dour than Captain Mallory. Well, actually a lot less dour, but he was still the lighter hearted version o the same personality. This was Bellington's stance, Bellington's habit o picking continually at his right sleeve. I remembered his servants constantly complaining about him wearing out the same spot on his clothes and all the trouble it caused. The coiffed chocolate curls that were such a contrast to Mr. Mallory's no nonsense five-strand braid. He matched all the way te that blasted dead flower scent that had always made me nose itch at court. And when he spoke it was with Bellington's cadence, accent, and voice._

_"My dear man" I shivered as he laid a soft hand on me forearm remembering the other reason I didn't much care for Lord Bellington - his wandering hands. He batted his eyes little flirtatiously, just like Bellington. "The guest list will be well checked and we must of course be on it."_

_Now I was not only uncomfortable but utterly confused "Just who is me son marrying?"_

_"A delightful darling known as __Eliza__beth__. She's part of the Governor's household."_

_"A maid? The Governor has invited a Lord to his maid's wedding? And a Lord sailed all the bleeding way from __London__ for a maid's wedding?" I scoffed._

_"Lovely lass" was Lord Bellington's reply. I couldn't even seem te think o him as Mr. Mallory. "You'll like her. _

_No sense of proper propriety at all." He dipped a bit of snuff with that same effeminate flip o the wrist I remembered from all those years ago. "And who said we traveled all the way from __London__? Lord Bellington's… tastes offended the wrong person at court so he's been visiting his sugar plantations these last few years."_

_"And when the real Lord Bellington shows up?"_

_"Not a problem. Lord Bellington's wandering hands offended someone with a much more direct method of dealing with interpersonal conflict but no one has realized he's missing yet" He shrugged "perfect. Now, my good man, just fetch that chest and we'll be off." And suddenly I could feel me hackles rising. That easy arrogance, that assumption that ye could use anyone ye bleeding chose as a bloody carpet, memories o the court and what those bloody bastards had done te me washed over me like a tsunami. I quivered with rage and I was suddenly met by hard, green, cat-slit eyes. _

_"Is there a problem Bill?" it was asked quietly but it was like an icy wind._

_"No, milord" that wintry glare extinguished the rage instantly. I picked up the exquisitely carved chest and obediently followed 'Lord Bellington' onte the dock. _

_ Me arms were about te come out o their sockets – what in blazes did he have in this thing? But the thought o coming face-te-face with those hard green eyes was enough te make me hold me peace as I trudged along in old 'Bumblebee's' wake. I had te smirk a little even over the pain in me shoulders as I recalled his nickname among the backstairs servants. It wasn't just his penchant for black and yellow it was the flitting but slightly ungainly way that he moved – just like a bumblebee. I breathed a prayer o thanksgiving when he hired us a coach and I could set the bloody chest down. He gave me vaguely bemused glance as I started to step inte the coach. Oh, I dropped back down and shut the door feeling like an utter fool. I bloody well knew how te be a proper foot man. It was just those days o easy camaraderie on the Peregrine had me thinking we were almost edging toward something like friendship. I should have known better. His kind don't make friends with mine._

_ After a couple o twists through the streets o __Port Royal__ he knocked on the roof fer us te stop. I gave the slightly shabby blacksmith's shop a puzzled look but trying te second guess Mr. Mallory was nearly as bad as trying te keep up with Jack's madness. He emerged blinking in that soft, misty way o 'Bumblebee's' afore waving me over with a dramatic sigh._

_"I would never have had to tolerate such behavior in __London__" he muttered in that too high, theatrical voice o his "that I should be condemned to such, such depths. Barbarians, I'm completely surrounded by barbarians." He hid his face in his nosegay as I rolled me eyes afore opening the door for him. He sashayed past me and indicated that I should shut the door. The donkey in the corner looked up from his hay and blinked sleepily at Lord Bellington. I swear the beast's eyes widened afore his ears went back and he brayed loudly. _

_"I didn't ask for your opinion, ass" he snapped as Lord Bellington gave way te the return o Captain Mallory "and it still isn't too late for me to geld you." He moved rapidly across the floor doing God alone knows what. I cleared me throat nervously after he'd spent several long minutes at the forge._

_"What are we doing here?"_

_He blinked round green eyes at me. I was beginning te wonder how in the name o the Almighty he kept anything straight. "You didn't see the sign" he stopped abruptly and flushed slightly "This is your son's blacksmith shop."_

_I looked at the dim room with completely different eyes "Will sells these?" I said as I took in all the exquisite swords._

_Mr. Mallory flashed those perfect white teeth and looked ridiculously pleased with himself "He **makes** them."_

_I picked up a masterpiece lying off by itself. I might not be the swordsman Mr. Mallory was but I knew enough te know when I handled perfection._

_Mr. Mallory tucked several black pearls inte a small purse and laid it in the sword's place "Keep it."_

_"I couldn't."_

_"The pearls will more than cover what your son would have charged for it and you need a good blade. That's half the reason we're here."_

I sat up on the palette and gave my father a searching glance. There was no sword at his waist. I lay back with mixed emotions. On one hand it was nice to know that I wasn't so far gone as to miss my own handiwork at his hip on the other I wondered what had become of the sword I'd made for Jack. The purse with the black pearls had thrown me. At first I'd thought Jack had changed his mind and I'd been insulted that he'd paid me for a gift but then I'd noticed the changes at the forge. I'd been trying for weeks (more to keep my hands busy than anything else) to figure out a particularly obscure bit from Mannwan's treatise without much luck. When I got back after the wedding everything had been laid out in its proper order for the task. That made me suspect Noman and I'd been torn between being hurt that he had slipped into Port Royal and said nothing and being relieved that I had avoided an uncomfortable moment.

He followed my eyes "It's by me hammock. I didn't want ye asking awkward questions until I had a chance te explain."

I just stared at him as he shifted uncomfortably and continued…

_Captain Mallory shifted back te Lord Bellington and I obediently held both doors for his Lordship._

_I hissed as he passed me "Why can't I be the lord and ye be the servant."_

_"No offense, Bill" he whispered as he casually half-turned to view the sign "but you couldn't carry this off."_

_He slipped back inte the coach and tapped the roof fer the driver te continue._

_ I blinked in surprise as we approached the governor's mansion. I grabbed the chest but Lord Bellington's nasal whine stopped me as he went facedown in his nosegay again "Honestly is there to be **no** end to my suffering? Leave the chest and **announce** me, you, you foolish lout." _

_'Fine. I didn't want te pick the heavy thing up again anyway' I thought as I stalked te the door. The butler opened it before I even had a chance to knock. _

_"Lord Bellington has arrived and seeks an audience with the Governor at his earliest convenience."_

_The butler sniffed disapprovingly and gave me a slightly sympathetic look before moving off into the interior o the mansion._

_"Will, it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding" a young man's voice protested from the hallway opposite. I took a step forward eyes straining in hopes o seeing me boy. There. I'd always known he'd have Kitty's eyes and hair from the moment I'd first seen him but, God, otherwise it was like looking at meself twenty years ago._

_"I know Chris" he said te the young naval officer beside him._

_His voice, Tom's voice, he might look like me but he sounded like me brother. It was true. Alive, the boy was ALIVE. Suddenly I couldn't seem te breath and the world spun. A pair o arms caught me and lowered me te the floor._

_"Lay still, Bill" the elfling's voice sounded worried. I tried te roll back te me feet but the left side o me body didn't seem te work. Odd that. He was leaving. Bugger all and be damned if I wasn't going te follow but the elfling held me down with one hand while the other was laid gently against me temple. The butler returned and escorted a pair o shadowy figures away without even giving us a second glance. Feeling returned as abruptly as it had fled te the left side o me body. I started te rise but the elfling's arm was like iron. A tiny spark o fire lit on his right fore finger. He moved the flame watching me eyes all the while. He rocked back onte his heels and studied me with those cat's eyes. He rose swiftly pulling me te me feet._

_"Honestly, Bill you're as bad as Peterson" he said lightly but I'd seen the sharp apprehension earlier "I hope it isn't catching."_

_Servants bustled around us like we weren't even here._

_"Come on. We need to catch back up to our shadows." He led us quickly te another chamber where a translucent Lord Bellington was bemoaning the horrors of 'provincial servants' and whining for the pleasures o London while a similarly faded and very deadpan servant that didn't look a bit like me stared at the far wall. A man in a great grey wig made sympathetic noises while looking like he very much wished te be elsewhere. Nervous, very nervous, I wondered why. As Mr. Mallory stepped into Lord Bellington the illusion brightened until I couldn't see anything but a very solid Lord Bellington. When the man in the grey wig turned away from us Lord Bellington clearly indicated I should rejoin my 'shadow' which I did with some trepidation but I felt nothing. I let me mind drift as the two o them went through all the empty little rituals between men o 'power'. I pictured the lad in me mind again standing there in the hallway below us with the navy man. Trim, neat, and resplendent for his wedding. Far too well dressed fer the blacksmith's shop we'd been in this morning. I fingered the hilt o the blade at me hip. Those had been the finest swords I'd ever seen and that included the court in __London__ but it wasn't enough te merit the interest o Lords and Governors in the lad's marriage which only left the lass te be the cause o the ruckus._

_"Father! There you are!" and the **bride** swept in. Me son was marrying the bloody Governor's daughter?! I'm not sure what I meant te do but suddenly Mr. Mallory had slipped free o the shadow o Lord Bellington again and had me pinioned. God, but he preternaturally strong for his slight stature I think I'd have had better luck wiggling free o Peterson. The faded Lord Bellington gave the lass a courtier's bogus smile "There is still time to reconsider though I rather doubt the good Commodore would have you back."_

_The lass's chin shot up "I love **Will.**"_

_"Love?" Lord Bellington gave an amused chuckle that made me skin crawl "What, dear **child** does love have to do with marriage?" He flicked a disdainful glance at the Governor "You are supposed to be a woman of quality." The shadow moved through the room running his fingers across various fine items "you have responsibilities to your family and your class and they do not include a craftsman tainted with the blood of a pirate. Have. You. No. Self. Respect?"_

_"Get out" she snarled at him._

_He gave her a sardonic smile "You don't have the authority for that and throwing me out will hardly quiet the wagging tongues of others."_

_I spared the Governor a quick glance but he merely watched his daughter quietly._

_Lord Bellington picked a particularly fine piece up began fondling it. Or at least he appeared to – the object in his hand was as insubstantial as the shadow itself and the original remained on the desk. Couldn't the Governor and his daughter see the difference? "There are limits to how much your father can protect you and there are those, milady, who will throw more than mere insults. Have you really counted the cost of wedding so **far** beneath your station?" _

_She mastered her temper with obvious difficulty and retorted coldly "Yes, I have and I'd far rather live and die the wife of a master swordsmith than to deny the call of my heart. I pity you, Lord Bellington, and all those like you, that are too trapped by the chains of propriety to even know what you're missing."_

_The Governor finally spoke "Your pardon, Lord Bellington, but we need to leave for the ceremony."_

_The shadow of Lord Bellington gave the Governor another superior glance "As I've said the blood will always tell in the end." And with that last salvo the shade o Lord Bellington whirled and led the way back out o the mansion. _

"That, that, that **wretch**" Elizabeth spat before surging to her feet. Far angrier at Mallory than she had ever been at Lord Bellington "How **dare** he."

Jack made some fast moves of his own to intercept her. All without that trademark sway of his.

"Let **go** of me Jack Sparrow!"

"Captain, Captain Jack Sparrow, Mrs. Turner." He took a firmer grip on her arms "I like yer pretty little head still attached te yer pretty little neck and it won't be if ye go down there cleared for action right now. There's an opportune moment for everything lass and this is **NOT** the time for ye te take yer pound o flesh from Mallory."

"Besides lass" my father interjected "Mr. Mallory had a reason fer baiting ye as he did best that ye hear all that he had te say afore ye tangle with him."

Elizabeth returned to my side but it was with a cold, seething fury.

_The shadow servant mounted the rear o the coach while Mr. Mallory manhandled me inside._

_I glared at the little elfling across from me in his silver dragon garb and his pretentious crown. "What was that about? I thought we needed te be on the bloody guest list? Somehow I doubt we'll be terribly welcome now!"_

_Cool green eyes appraised me "Who do you think you are to raise your voice to me?"_

_I swallowed but didn't look down._

_"I asked you a question, human" his voice was still calm but there was a frigid undercurrent to it._

_"I'm not yer servant, I'm not yer crewman, and I'm not yer subject" I replied far more bravely than I felt._

_"No, you're the man who owes me his life more than a dozen times over. And at least one of those at sufficient risk to myself to earn the censure of both Sea and Peregrine." _

_'A dozen?' I thought, but I could only remember eight and that was if I'd been dying back there in the Governor's foyer._

_"You would never even consider treating me in this manner if I wasn't a courtier. You presume to judge every person with wealth or title against the measure of those who wronged you." He brought his hands together and set his chin on his finger tips "And while I certainly don't trust me and you definitely shouldn't trust me one does think that I have at least earned as much respect as you would grant anyone else. Which brings us to another little issue, what would you have done if I told you a fortnight ago that your son was marrying the Governor's daughter?" He didn't pause long enough for me te answer and truth told I didn't know what I'd have said anyway. _

_"I'll tell you what you'd have done you'd gnawed at that and with your prejudices by the time you got here it wouldn't matter if your son was marrying the Virgin Mary you'd have made her into a witch. Your daughter deserves better than that."_

_"Daughter?"_

_"In less than two hours your son takes her as his wife. 'Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife and they shall become one flesh' – Genesis __2:24__. Congratulations your son has given you a lovely daughter._

_Unless of course you're planning to stand up and say something during the ceremony. In which case I can assure you I'll kill you myself. You have no idea what they've already gone through to be together. Your daughter to be is a courageous and caring young woman who has proven willing to risk everything, including her life, for the love of your son. Do you really have any idea what she's giving up? What kind of grief she causing herself by doing this? She has become a pariah to those who where once her friends, an embarrassment to some who will seek to do her harm, and a tool for those who would upset the position of her father. I could, of course, have simply said this to you but I preferred to let her speak for herself first."_

_"So she's a bloody saint, is she?" I snarled as the coach traversed the better side of __Port Royal_

_He gave me a wry smile "Of course not, I'm the perfect one remember? She's beautiful, brave, and intelligent on the other hand being surrounded by servants her entire life has hardly prepared her for the domestic duties of a blacksmith's wife so I hope for your son's sake that he has a strong stomach. She's proud, not as proud as I am, but enough that it'll get her into trouble at some point. And I'd nail down anything you'd like to keep since she seems to share Jack's slightly skewed definition of 'borrowing'." He canted his head "Actually, come to think of it, under the right circumstances she'd make a very good pirate. And she's very much in love with your son. I don't know if they can actually make this work, particularly in __Port Royal__, but I wish them all the best. They're very brave, you know, a bit foolish too, but the young are like that. To be so innocent" his eyes shifted away from mine and went a bit distant. I waited a few minutes expecting him to continue but he didn't._

_"So ye approve o the lass?" _

_He blinked back inte the here and now "I think they make a lovely couple."_

_"And her father?"_

_His ears flattened te his head "He is less than best pleased with his daughter's choice of bride-groom but he will do your son no direct harm." The green eyes glowed "And I am **watching** him."_

_"So ye don't bleeding trust him?"_

_He bared his teeth "I don't **trust** anyone. I learned that lesson long ago." He waved a hand "He is far too focused on his daughter's happiness to do your son ill. It is his attitude toward Sparrow that is my primary concern."_

_"They still aren't going te be too happy with Lord Bellington."_

_He arched one dark brow at me "I intend to **enjoy** myself tonight which I most assuredly wouldn't if I was still playing 'Bumblebee'. No, Lord Bellington has served his purpose." He glanced out and knocked on the roof. "Show time."_

_I swallowed not even hearing what name he got us inte the church under. Another navy man ushered us to a seat near but not quiet at the front on the groom's side. The empty front pew made me heart ache. Mr. Mallory gave me a bit o a shove toward it but I shook me head._

_"Will'll be nervous enough without a ghost showing up in the front row" I whispered te him. _

_If he replied I never heard it. HE walked in with that same navy man from earlier beside him. Me SON, living and breathing and looking nervous as hell. Had I looked like that on the day I married me Kitty? No wonder Tom had been so amused. I wanted to tell the lad it'd be fine but he already looked near enough te fainting without me scaring him out o his skin. The music started and his attention fixed like one of Tom's falcons on the back o the church. He must have spotted her because his whole being just seemed te light up. I looked at the lass as we stood. Radiant, absolutely radiant with eyes fer no one but Will. _

_Me emotions boiled as I watched them take their vows. Pain like a sword thrust that Kitty and Tom weren't here, anger that the lad had betrayed them by marrying a woman o the same kind that had destroyed us, pride that he'd managed te catch a lass o that kind, joy that he was alive, delight that he'd found someone that could make him that happy, fear that the gulf between their stations could still destroy the love they so obviously shared, nervousness that sometime soon I'd have te make meself known te the lad, and a half dozen other thoughts that just wouldn't seem te settle. A red silk handkerchief was pressed inte me hand. I'd never even realized that I was weeping. I blinked trying in vain te clear me eyes as I looked at the lass and remembered something else, something that the __Cockpit Circle__ had driven from me mind. Not every man with a title was a monster. Old Lord Ossory had been a decent and honorable man. Stiff as the proverbial board but still a good man. Sir Rhys Norrington had risked everything te stand up fer what was right. And the Prince o Avalon beside me had saved me life, had save a lot o lives in the few years I'd known him. Truth told that bastard Duke o __Marlborough__ fer all his double dealing would **never** sell out his **family**, not ever. Maybe, maybe it wouldn't be so bad having a Lady in the family. Ma would have been ecstatic. She'd have been so nervous she would have never managed te speak a sensible word again but she'd have been so pleased. Except Lord Ossory the younger had killed her – not with a sword thrust but he'd killed her all the same. I leaned on the pew in front o me, shaking a bit under the onslaught caught between rage and joy and not knowing where port was on this particular sea. _

_A gentle set o hands herded me out o the church and back te the coach. Me world was still spinning as we settled back against the upholstery. The look in the pale blue eyes across from me was utterly familiar even if the face and form weren't. Weighing, appraising, calculating – a courtier's look if I'd ever seen one and yet I trusted that whatever those false eyes saw the green eyed elfling hiding behind them wouldn't use that knowledge against me._

_"Are you going to be alright, Bill?"_

_I ran a hand over me face "Aye, just give me a minute."_

_A quick nod and then he appeared to completely ignore me. Not true, I knew him too well te be fooled, but I was grateful for the illusion. We were pulling back up in front o the Governor's mansion. Mr. Mallory (or whoever he was pretending te be since he'd picked up a whole new set o personal habits te go with the blond hair and blue eyes) slipped out o the coach and nearly staggered under the weight o that bloody chest. No wonder that benighted thing was heavier than he was. I took it from him afore he hurt himself. He blinked at me in surprise and then shrugged and set off in the lead. He waved to a table in the corner and I set the blasted thing back down._

_"What is in that thing?" I asked as I rubbed me aching shoulders._

_"It's my wedding gift for the happy couple" he replied without looking up which meant I was, yet again, talking te the top o his head. _

_I looked down at the cloth napkins in his hands wondering what in blazes he was doing. _

_"I thought I was yer wedding gift."_

_"No, you're my contribution to the happily-ever-after. That's my wedding gift."_

_A couple more flips and he presented it with a flourish._

_I gave him an odd look "Why are ye refolding all the napkins inte birds?"_

_He rolled his eyes "Not birds, well, yes they are birds but they're swans."_

_Me gaze flicked back te the chest which had also been carved inte a swan._

"That was from Mallory?" Elizabeth broke in. I restrained a grin with difficulty with that bit of information Mallory had gone from the lowest of the low to acceptable company. She'd been so charmed with the complete set of intaglio carved gemstone dishes and the beautiful chest to keep them in. And I had to agree that they were some of the loveliest work I'd ever seen with their repeating patterns of swords and swans. We'd had more than one offer for them that was probably more than I was likely to earn in a lifetime but Elizabeth wouldn't part with them. It had also been a mystery as to who had refolded all the napkins. Elizabeth had seen them done that way once in London and had wanted it for the wedding but no one had known how. Until now Elizabeth had credited the napkins to a surprise from her father. One did have to wonder though just how many odd and eclectic talents Mallory was hiding up his sleeves.

My father nodded and continued…

_Pale blue eyes looked up and I could swear I could see an ear flick even within the illusion. His hands flew so fast they blurred. He muttered something and a multitude of little breezes flickered past me te fold napkins._

_"Not like that" he hissed as a few not swans appeared on a several tables. He waved a hand "There isn't time for this." The breeze ruffled his hair. He glared and straightened out a few o the worse offenders but gave up as guests began to pour inte the room. We settled at a table at which every napkin had been folded into a dog. _

_"Very funny" he breathed before sitting "You just remember vengeance is a bitch."_

_I gave a questioning glance._

_"Wind is trying to 'yank my chain'." Whatever else he might have said was lost in the entrance o the bride and groom. They were a beautiful couple. The navy man made a toast I didn't hear as I stared at me son and the servants brought out the food. Mr. Mallory just pecked at his as he watched someone else over me shoulder. I finally turned te see Captain Jack Sparrow. _

_"What's Jack doing here?"_

_"Eating?"_

_It was me turn te glare at him "Isn't he a wanted fugitive?" _

_"Of course, but your daughter is nearly as silver tongued as he is. There's a one day truce between him and 'Sudden Stop' Norrington" he waved toward the other side of the room which had enough uniforms in it te make any self-respecting pirate VERY nervous "for the wedding. I just hope the fool doesn't drink himself insensible because if he's still in __Port Royal__ at sunrise he'll be back in a cell." He shoved his barely touched plate away. I glanced over te where the newlyweds were making their way from table te table and shifted uncomfortably. I rose swiftly and nearly overset me chair as I made a hasty retreat te the facilities. I only returned when the dancing started. Mr. Mallory turned his attention away from the navy man who'd given the toast and back te me._

_"You're going to have to speak to him at some point."_

_I fussed with the dog napkin "Not tonight. It isn't right. It's not fair to either o em. They should be focused on each other."_

_He gave me another measuring look "You're stalling."_

_"It isn't just a stall – it's true."_

_"That's the only reason I'm letting you get away with it, coward." He sighed "I'd feel much better if you spoke to him before I left though."_

_"Please, please let me do this in me own time"_

_It was only after he nodded his reluctant agreement that his words sank in._

_"You're leaving"_

_"On the next tide. I have a cargo that needs to be at its destination in less than four days. I'm going to have to use more than a little magic to make it on time as it is." He smiled a little as Will and his lass fed each other completely ignoring that fact that the rest o the world even existed. Instead o watching the lovebirds though this time I watched him not quite sure what was in those eyes. Amusement surely, coupled with a sardonic cynicism but there was also a wistfulness, a longing, and perhaps a touch o envy. He slid easily out o his chair as his eyes focused on the navy man "Every man should have a bonny lass, don't you think." He didn't bother waiting fer me reply. I stayed at the table sipping some high-brow wine and wishing fer some honest rum. If ye didn't know him ye'd have thought he was just ambling through the crowd but I knew him and I knew Jack and there was a plan in motion. He bowed courteously te a moderately well dressed young woman and offered her his arm. They moved easily out onte the dance floor. He was good (not surprisingly) she wasn't. Only a few particularly quick moves on his part saved his feet that he still managed te make both o em seem graceful was impressive. As they left the dance floor he angled them te pass the navy man. Just as they drew alongside he whispered something in her ear. She went ghostly pale and then beat red afore cracking him hard across the face with her fan. Too bad I was too far away te hear over the crowd. The navy man immediately came te her rescue with his hand on the hilt o his sword. They circled each other afore Mr. Mallory tendered some sort o apology te the lady. The navy man got the lass a drink and sat talking te her while glaring at Mr. Mallory._

_Mr. Mallory returned te his seat looking like a canary eating cat. He even took a sip o the wine._

_"Perfect." He rubbed his check "Though if I were Chris I'd hide her fans."_

_"You could have just introduced them."_

_He shook his head "That wouldn't have struck the right note at all. Three down and one to go."_

_"Three what?"_

_He did grin this time eyes dancing with pure Jack Sparrow style mischief "Introductions, Mallory style. Give it six months and they'll be three more weddings in __Port Royal__. Of course number four may have to wait."_

_"You're leaving?"_

_"Not just yet." He scanned the crowd eyes flitting from lass te lass before sighing in frustration "No wonder the poor man can't find a wife there's no one here to match him with."_

_"To match who?"_

_He nodded toward a knot o Naval uniforms "Zander, Commodore Norrington if we're being 'proper'." This time he was the one fussing with a dog napkin except when he was done it was a ship instead. "What a pretty pickle I've made for myself there."_

_I'd finally managed te spot him, not so much because he favored his brother physically as because he had the same 'stick-up-his-arse' stance._

_"I like Zander. I do. And he's the last bud of the White Rose but if he harms a hair on Sparrow's head I'll" he closed his eyes and sighed before glancing over at Jack. "Please be out of __Port Royal__ by dawn you daft idiot. Damn all but why did the two of you ever have to cross paths?"_

_"So just ask the bloody fool te leave" I suggested not sure why he was fretting over it._

_"I can't."_

_"Now, who's the coward" I asked with a smirk and instantly wished I hadn't opened me bloody mouth._

_Those eyes, God those eyes, for an instantly utterly not sane before just being merely enraged._

_"It has nothing to do with cowardice and everything to do with magic, human. I **CAN NOT**. Sparrow has to make the first move. Hell, I'm already fighting just to be here. And besides it's better this way" but when he looked at Jack ye could see the longing and the hurt in his eyes._

_"Are ye trying to convince me or yerself?"_

_"My head doesn't need convincing. It knows very well that Captain Jack Sparrow is far safer if he forgets he ever knew me. The only way I have ever ruled my heart is by killing it. I went down that road once in the foolishness of youth. I won't ever do it again and so while my head knows one thing my heart holds a different opinion on the matter. We are better sundered and sundered we shall remain." He turned his attention back to the stiff Naval Commander._

_I spent several moments collecting me courage afore speaking again but the Peregrine's question about Peterson was nagging me something fierce. "Why are ye here arranging other fools happily-ever-afters and not wooing Breimi?"_

_I had been braced for a gale but it never came._

_"Would you have wooed Kitty **after** you became a hunted fugitive?" he shook his head "My life is not my own. It never really has been and it never will be." For just an instant he let me see the shadow o that crown "I belong to Avalon, body, blood, and bone." His lips twitched in a not smile "Maybe that's why I do it. Did you know there are over a thousand prophecies about me? I suppose I should be flattered at all the attention. But mostly it's simply disconcerting since not a single one has a happy ending. They say misery loves company. I say live vicariously. If you can't have it yourself at least make sure some else can." He waved a hand toward Will and his bride "Unless I rewrite the laws of Avalon after I become King I will never wed because there is no one left that I might legally take as a bride or even as a consort." His gaze wandered back to Norrington "At the rate we're going we are both likely to end up wedded only to the cold companionship of duty and honor. Bound in chains more than half of our own making or at the very least our own willing accept" He stopped abruptly. I followed his gaze and snarled a curse as me eyes lit on Charles Talbot – the Earl o __Shrewsbury__ and the man that had handed me an empty pistol all those years ago. _

_He caught me hand as I rose "Think. What purpose would it serve for you to challenge him here and now?"_

_"Then ye kill him!"_

_He shook his head "To many ramifications to too many people. I don't just assassinate people at random Bill. Do you have any idea the cascade of events his death would tip off right now?"_

_I didn't know. I didn't care._

_"What's he bloody doing here?"_

_"My guess would be smoozing with the sugar island governors' and sounding out if the Commodore shares his brother's political views now that he holds the family purse strings." He grabbed me arm "You have **got** to talk to Will. He **has** to know about your history with the Duke of __Marlborough__ before __Shrewsbury__ gets back to __England__."_

_"Why? How would they connect him with me?"_

_He caught me chin and forced me te look at Will "How can he not? The Duke of __Marlborough__ hasn't forgotten who put a bullet in his little brother and he'd consider it a very satisfying vengeance to take your son from you. The boy has to be told he's in danger. I'll give you a year to say your piece. It'll be at least that long before __Marlborough__ can send orders if you haven't spoken to the boy by then I will. TALK. TO. YOUR. SON. BILL."_

_A breeze ruffled his hair. "I know, I know, I going. Talk to him." And he was gone._

My father was staring at the deck. "I spent three months in Port Royal. Every day I walked te yer doorstep and every day I lost me nerve. Finally just put out te sea and figured Mr. Mallory would warn ye."

If I had had the strength I would have hit him but I didn't so simply turned my face away. My father was a coward and I was lying on this pallet because of it. I'd nearly DIED because of it.

"Son?"

"You don't have a son" I snarled without turning my head.

**Author's notes : This 1/3 chapter should conclude the 'Bill & Mallory Show'. Please return your seats to their full upright position. For those who have enjoyed it take heart there's still lots of story with Bill and Mallory in it for those who have been hitting the space bar a lot to avoid it take heart!**


	13. I've Gotten Accustomed to Waking Up Aliv...

**Author's notes: **I take full responsibility forMallory's** REALLY **bad chant.He's already threatened me with a fate worse than death if I ever again make him say anything that cheesy again. O

**FalconWing**Is something the matter with Mallory? An exceptionally sadistic author I'm afraid. And yes, profoundly wrong, though he's **trying** very hard to fool everyone else. He's not succeeding terribly well - which says something all on its own.

**DragonHunter200: **Nope, you're not being dense at all. The only one of those that was even hinted at (and it was VERY vague) was Bill hearing the Peregrine. Peregrine complained to Mallory that he's wandered into some very dangerous territory Healing wise trying to put Bill's mind back together. Bill hearing the Peregrine (faintly) and seeing (A **LITTLE**) through some of Mallory's Shadows are some of the 'unknown consequences' of Mallory's 'little experiment' as was Bill's rather serious and nearly fatal stroke at the Governor's house.

Why the Peregrine calls Mallory Rhys is tentatively slated for a journal entry (depending on pacing and editing I'd say 70/30 it hits the 'cutting room floor') but the short answer is Rhys was his first name. A welsh nobleman and his family died in a coach accident right when Mallory's grandfather was looking for a way to foster Mallory into the English court. They just switched the two-and-a-half year old (and still nameless) Mallory for the nobleman's youngest son Rhys. The young 'orphan' was made a ward of King Henry VIII who foisted him off on Cromwell. Since he technically didn't exist in Avalon Mannwan and company just continued to call him Rhys for lack of anything else. Peregrine has been calling him Rhys since the day Mallory built him and I rather doubt Peregrine will ever call him anything else. For that matter Wind and Sea also call him Rhys since that was the name he was using at the time when he 'met' them.

Appropriate that the dagger is spooky (the sword is far worse – as in **Mallory** isn't even keen on touching it and that dagger is actually his **preferred** weapon!) since in essence it carries the dragon's 'ghosts'. If you think the Ellyllon aren't nice remember they got that extra edge from the dragons. Not a pleasant thing to carry around under any circumstances. Jack should feel lucky that his 'magic' sword has a much better personality.

What Jack wants the old log book for should come up near the end of this 1/3 of this chapter.

And as for me sticking with you – Wrong Man is a good read! And you've stuck with me through 100k words and I'm still just setting up the board!!

The other weddings (with the exception of Remington's are superfluous to the rest of the story and hit the editing room floor) so the point just becomes that matchmaking is a Mallory hobby.

Sorry – had a power outage and lost 3 pages but I'm trying!!

**Typically-Head-Over-Heals:** Well, the one bright side to shorter chapters is quicker updates. It's probably going to take me almost a month to finish Chapter 11 in its entirety. With it in thirds you get three updates for the price of one. ;) It does make things a little choppy though :( And hey! At 6000 words my 'short' chapter is longer than some whole fics!!! Not sure if I should be proud of that or not though…

But on with the story!

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 11: Three Weddings - Tales of Determined Damsels, Distressed Pirates, and a Devious (or possibly just Demented) Elf – Part b – I've Gotten _Accustomed _to Waking Up Alive.**

I heard the man who called himself my father get up and leave. I hadn't even realized Anna-Maria had joined us until she laid a hand on my shoulder.

"I know it's none o me business but trust me ye don't want te leave this hanging." Having made her opinion known she turned on her heal and left closely followed by Jack leaving Elizabeth and I as alone as anyone can be on a ship.

She sat opposite me looking utterly confused "Why is he so angry about you marrying 'one o that kind'? And why is the Duke of Marlborough trying to kill you?"

I'd forgotten just how much Elizabeth had missed both of William Blake's tale when she'd been in the galley with Mallory and Mallory and Jack's long chat later. I'm not sure how coherent I was or how much I left out but her hand flew to her mouth more than once in the long telling.

"That poor man" she murmured. I wondered which one she was referring to. The only thing I hadn't told her was the last bit with Mallory; somehow it seemed like a confidence. You could almost see gears turning as she digested the disjointed bits from earlier.

"If **this** is your son's fate **then** me prince is in dire trouble" she breathed the hobgoblin's words "Why **didn't** Mallory come last May?" Maybe I am an idiot – it hadn't actually occurred to me that my wounds were, if the hobgoblin was to be trusted, as much a result of Mallory's failure as Mr. Blake's. That didn't change how I felt about Mr. Blake though, or Mallory. It was never **Mallory's** responsibility. Nothing Mallory had done for Mr. Blake and I from that first rescue in London to my healing had been Mallory's **responsibility**, which did rather bring up the question of **why**, again. When I'd gone to Jack for help his first question had been what's in it for me? Mallory had never asked for a damn thing. Well, he had sort of asked me to keep an eye on Jack but even then it hadn't been a demand and he'd never actually even asked. So much for all those stories about bad bargains with fairies. But if he didn't care about bargaining why had he made such a point about being indebted over the hair for the harp? Or did that feed back into his pride? I'd also assumed that the danger to Mallory was in the **future** but that failure implied that something had **already** happened, not will be in dire trouble but **is** in dire trouble. Except what could actually be worse than what he'd already survived?

"That's what I love about ye, Lizzy" Jack said from behind us. He nearly showered soup on us with one of his grand gestures. I wondered (not for the first) time if Jack was capable of speech with his hands tied? He'd certainly been quiet on the scaffold in Port Royal. He'd even declined the privilege of saying his last words. Elizabeth rescued our lunch before Jack could continue.

"Straight te the critical question – what bloody happened te Mallory? Whatever else he is he doesn't break his word lightly and he doesn't miss a deadline. And certainly not to merely become a 'structural element in a sand dune."

"We need that journal, Captain Sparrow."

The two of them shared a look that made me extremely nervous. Not a word was spoken and yet they had had a moment of perfect understanding. I felt a stab of sympathy for Mallory. I certainly wouldn't want these two conspiring against me, not even 'for my own good'. Of course being rather curious myself I had no intention of warning Mallory.

Having wordlessly declared themselves in complete accord Jack took a sip of rum while Elizabeth focused her attention on me.

"Will, about your father."

"I don't have a father" I retorted stonily, hoping (though I rather doubted it) that she would let the matter drop.

"Will, he couldn't have known this would happen. Please don't blame him. He's been through enough."

I felt another flash of hot, irrational anger "Why are you defending him? How can you defend him?"

She laid a gentle hand against my face "I not defending him. We've known each other half our lives, I know how much you've wanted to know your father. I know you're angry." She shushed me gently and I yielded "And you know just how furious my father makes me sometimes but I love him and I wouldn't lose him for the world."

'Petty things, Elizabeth' I thought but didn't say it. I'd learned a little wisdom in two years. 'All petty things and all because he **loves** you and would give everything he is and has to protect you. In spite of the fact that he's afraid of his own shadow. What would that be like, to bask in that kind of parental love? To know that no matter what there was always a safe haven? That someone would give everything to save you?' I looked up into the eyes I could gladly drown in and remembered that I did have someone who would. 'Oh, Elizabeth what did I ever do to deserve you? Do you have any idea what you mean to me? Do you know that your love, that a lady can love someone like me, is the only thing that makes me feel worth a damn? That until you joined me when we saved Jack the only thing that gave my life any meaning was the pleasure of crafting a fine sword? That going out there to save Jack from the noose was tantamount to committing suicide? I was just trying to do it nobly and quickly instead of drinking myself to death like Brown. Because seeing you in Norrington's arms would have destroyed me, was destroying me and that was only a few days. And as much as Brown's drinking taught me to hate the bottle in the end I would have had to do something to drown the pain. You, on the other hand, dream of adventure because your father **did **do to you what Mallory refused to do to Jack. He wrapped you in fine linen and put you on a shelf.' I wondered how much of Elizabeth's initial attraction to me was because of me and how much was the fact her father didn't approve. And then decided it didn't matter because we were beyond that now.

She spoke again "I know he hurt you but I'm sure that was the last thing he intended. This might be your only chance to get to know him."

I wanted to rage back at her but I couldn't, not my Elizabeth, and so I took a minute to get my temper under control before responding "And now I know he's a bloody coward." I looked up at Elizabeth "Your father might be terrified of the very thought of a fight but that would never stop from coming after you." The rejection was like a sword thrust. I could excuse the years before the curse ending, all of them, because there was just cause. Oh, it hurt and I was angry but with the Duke of Marlborough and Barbossa not Mr. Blake. But after the wedding? Those, those I was both furious and hurt over. I WILL NOT CRY IN FRONT OF JACK AND ELIZABETH! I ordered myself as I could feel my eyes beginning to ache. It was easier to be angry because then I didn't have to admit to the pain. I didn't bloody **matter** enough for him to even acknowledge?

"Ah" Jack entered the conversation for the first time with a flourish of his hands. Undoubtedly he'd been waiting for the bloody 'opportune moment'. "That's where yer wrong William Turner son o Bootstrap Bill. Dead wrong."

I tried to glare sullenly at him but I knew I was blinking too much to manage it. I wanted to spit back a denial but somehow those hands had become fascinating as had that slight sway and the dark deep eyes. Suddenly it was **important** that I listen very carefully and very quietly to Jack.

"He's a good man yer father. There's nobody, except Mallory, that I'd rather have at me back in a fight. He isn't a coward, whelp, but he's a follower and I think he's been following me brother's lead."

Abruptly I was far more curious than angry. Something about that should have disturbed me but Jack's hands were far more interesting, weren't they? "How?"

"Ye never asked, whelp, how I found ol'Bootstrap."

I opened my mouth to snap that there hadn't exactly been time what with being shot and nearly dying and all but that wasn't very nice so I just listened quietly.

"Ye see it was Peterson who told me he'd seen Bootstrap but I couldn't find anyone else who'd talked to Bootstrap Bill Turner. Then I started hearing plenty about Bill **Blake**."

"But that would lead Marlborough right to him" I breathed.

"Aye, whelp, right to **him **and away from ye and yer bonny lass. Now, I'd say we both owe our overprotective elder male relations a bit o a lesson but neither o 'em are cowards. And both were trying te do what they thought was best fer us. So don't ye be as foolish as ol'Jack and go trying te send him off just yet." I shook my head to clear the cobwebs as Jack studied his suddenly still hands "Damn good thing the Pearl stuck her nose in when she did or there's no telling if he'd still be breathing. If the hobgoblin's te be trusted o course." This time his eyes didn't suck me in the way they had a few moments ago. This time they were just normal, well, as normal as anything about Captain Jack Sparrow ever is, eyes. "I might have sent him te his death in anger, William Turner, don't ye repeat me mistake."

I felt some of the anger fading, not all of it, but most. "What did you say to get him to agree to see me? Or did you kidnap him?"

"Nothing that drastic whelp. I just asked him what kind of self-respecting father would let his son go through the rest o his life believing he'd murdered his father. About half way through me description o what it must be like te have a nightmare o yer father drowning strapped te a cannon when ye had no bloody choice **but** te end the curse he took off fer the Pearl. Didn't even finish his rum" Jack made that sound like a grave offence "just left me there in the tavern in mid word. I hate not getting te properly finish a tale."

I glanced across the deck to where my father was watching the sea and then back to Jack and Elizabeth.

"I'll think about it" I allowed grudgingly.

From the brief smiles I hadn't fooled either of them. Poor Mallory, he didn't have a prayer against these two. Anna-Maria seeing that things had evidently reached a conclusion handed off the helm to Gibb's and joined us. She leaned her head against Jack's shoulder.

"Cap Francois on the morning tide, luv."

I wouldn't have thought Anna-Maria capable of being so nervous but then she was going home in ruddy bad circumstances. Jack wrapped a comforting arm around her and to my surprise she didn't take it off at the shoulder instead snuggling against him.

"Were there really three weddings in Port Royal after yours?" she asked Elizabeth who was having a hard time not outright laughing at the panicked look that crossed Jack's face at the word 'wedding' on Anna-Maria's lips.

Jack got progressively more restless while Elizabeth proceeded to regale Anna-Maria with the minutiae of the three weddings 'Samuel Evans' had made the 'introductions' for at our wedding. Figuring out just who Mallory had impersonated for the wedding had been quite easy from the bits my father had told us.

Anna-Maria chuckled "I never would have though Mr. Mallory was any kind o romantic."

Jack muttered something under his breath.

"What was that Captain Sparrow?"

"I said, luv, if he wasn't ye wouldn't be here and yer mother would still be the Pearl's first mate."

"Me mother was never the Pearl's first mate" she scoffed looking at him like he's lost his mind.

Jack shook his head "Would ol'Jack lie te ye?"

"In a heartbeat."

Jack looked crushed "Well, I'm not lying now. Yer mother was Mallory's first mate. And I bet yer father never had the nerve te tell her who **really** made that cat-call." He started to rise and stalk off but Anna-Maria caught his hand.

"Oh, no, ye don't, Captain Jack Sparrow. Ye started this tale now ye sit back down here and finish it."

"It started on the day we were te take the Pearl on her maiden voyage…__

_ Something was wrong. Instincts honed by years o living on the streets by his wits both woke him and warned him te remain utterly still until he figured out what was amiss. He cautiously opened one eye but could see only Mallory's chest. He had his own bunk just across but he'd yet te sleep in it. One night, not long after Mallory had started building the __Pearl__, he'd curled up against Mallory, just for warmth, mind ye, against the cold __Caribbean__ night. Mallory hadn't spoken a word but he'd felt what he could o sworn was a blanket o protection pull in around him. Never in his life had he felt so safe, so sheltered. Was this what the children up the hill in the better houses with ma's and pa's felt like? But that didn't matter all that mattered was that the thought o sleeping anywhere else but tucked up close as close te Mallory was, was **un**thinkable. Mallory was awake too. He couldn't say how he knew as Mallory gave every sign o still being blissfully asleep but he wasn't. He chuckled suddenly and his green eyes glittered slightly in the moonlight when he opened them._

_"We seem to have a visitor" Mallory whispered inte his ear. His warm breath tickled but he stifled any reaction as Mallory eased out o the captain's bunk and pulled his dagger from under the pillow. He didn't bother pulling his shirt back on but slipped out onte the deck in naught but his breeches. He followed quietly behind as Mallory's ever present shadow. Someone was trying te weigh anchor!_

_"I'm curious. If you manage to raise the anchor just what is it you plan on doing next?" Mallory leaned nonchalantly against the mast._

_The thief at the capstan whirled in surprise before snapping "Then I will set sail."_

_Mallory chuckled "**You** can not crew this vessel alone."_

_He realized the thief was a she as she stepped forward out o the shadows with a pistol pointed straight at Mallory's bare chest "Then I will need some help, non?" _

_"Now why should I help you steal this ship?"_

_She cocked the pistol in reply. Mallory just grinned back looking highly amused._

_"Vous etes incroyable!__ Ye're as mad as they say."_

_"Oh, they don't know the half of it Marie-Anne Dieu-le-Veut."_

_"Ye know who I am?"_

_"And I know why you're so desperate to be out of __Tortuga__."_

_"C'est impossible!"___

_"You will find, madam, if you remain on the __Pearl__, that I am privy to many 'impossible' things. Now stand down." You could hear the amusement being replaced by something harder and more dangerous._

_"I will shoot you" she growled "mad or not."_

_"With an unloaded pistol?__ Somehow I doubt it" he gave her a sardonic grin. _

_"Who says it's unloaded?"_

_"The bloody hole in your husband's chest would vouch for it." Mallory cast a glance back at the town which looked like a stirred ant hill. "It shan't be much longer before they give up on searching the town and start in on the ships. The De Grammonts' don't much care about you sending your husband up to pester Saint Peter but they don't wish to lose their winnings." He circled her "I can see why they want you. You'd be quite lucrative for them and would a very nice addition to their stable of whores." He caught her hand when she moved to slap him. She let out a sharp sound of pain. He wiggled his loose tooth board with the game Mallory was playing with the woman. He sighed a little hoping they'd go back to bed soon. Mallory had said they would sail on the pre-dawn which couldn't be far away._

_"Damn tu Jean, damn ye te hell. __How could you?"_

_"I think you handled that already" Mallory retorted dryly as he released her. "I will take you safely out of the De Grammonts' reach, madam, but only if you give me your word that you will never act against me and mine." _

_"And yer price, sir?"_

_"Have no fear for your honor, madam, I shall not ravage you and any man aboard who lays a finger on you against your will shall find himself a gelding."_

_The woman tossed her head "Aren't I jolie enough fer ye?"_

_He gave her a deep and courtly bow "In all the courts of __Europe__ with their strutting belles I have seen few to rival and none to surpass, madam. Suffice to say that should some madness induce me to bet you on a roll of the dice I would have asked a far higher price."_

_She raked the boy in the shadows with her eyes "Pretty little catamite ye have there Captain."_

_He shivered slightly as an icy wind seemed to move out over the deck and Mallory went poker straight in anger. "No, he is **not**. Insinuate it again and I will make the De Grammonts seem archangels by comparison." He glanced at the deck and at the town "You don't have much time madam."_

_She turned slowly blinking owlishly at the shore "They haven't started out yet."_

_"No but aren't you feeling rather light headed?" Mallory took a cautious step forward "Your wound is not in and of itself life threatening but you're leaving puddles of blood on __Pearl__'s clean deck. Terribly untidy. Your word milady and I'll call the crew and tuck you into a nice comfortable bunk."_

_She swayed a bit even though the deck was motionless. "My word, naught against you and yours" she murmured and then crumpled._

_"Stubborn wench" Mallory commented to the night in general before barking in a voice pitched te carry all the way te China (wherever that was) much less the crew quarters._

_"All hands on deck, double time" Mallory turned to him. "Fetch me my medical bag Sparrow." He gave the woman sprawled on the deck a glance before scampering back to their cabin fer the medical supplies. What was the mad man thinking taking a woman aboard? Every old salt in every Tortugan dive muttered about how it was bad luck te have a woman on a ship and now they had one. Maybe she'd die. She'd certainly left enough blood on the deck fer that. He sighed as he picked up the bag – that wasn't a very nice thought. No need to wish her ill particularly when he didn't know anything about her. Besides the women o __Tortuga__ had always been kind te him in the eternity before Mallory. They were the ones who slipped him scraps or dropped things a purpose where he could get 'em. It was the men ye had te watch out fer. He shivered again in the warm __Caribbean__ night. He didn't know what catamite meant but he'd seen that look before. He shoved memories best forgotten forever away. Mallory wouldn't let **that** happen ever again._

_There was a slap o bare feet but no grumbles as men moved at Mallory's bidding._

_"Heave to at the capstan. Haul away. Loose topsails and t'gallants."_

_He froze as the wind filled the great black sails (his sails – Mallory had intended white but **everyone** had **white** sails) and the ship caught the wind for the first time._

_ !!! _

_What was that? It was almost as if the exclamation of surprise and overjoyed discovery had come from the Black __Pearl__ herself._

_"Welcome to the family lass. Watch over your eldest brother and watch out for the other" Mallory whispered_

_ !!?? _

_"Haven't quite found our voice yet have we? Don't fret, it'll come." And then Mallory chanted sounding as elated as the ship beneath his bare feet._

_Heel ye ho boys!_

_Let her go boys!_

_Bring her prow round_

_Into the horizon_

_No care for where we're bound_

_With a new sun rising!_

_Heel ye ho boys!_

_Let her go boys!_

_Ye shall be cradled by Sea_

_And adored by Wind.___

_May thee free forever be_

_Daughter of my hand.___

_Heel ye ho boys!_

_Let her go boys!_

_With limitless Sky above_

_And Sea's abyss below_

_Joy eternal to ye, beloved_

_And darkness unending to your foes.___

_Heel ye ho boys!_

_Let her go boys!_

_North, South, East, and West_

_From every point may ye be blest._

_Rigging, hull, sail, and mast_

_May they withstand any blast._

_Heel ye ho boys!_

_Let her go boys!_

_Soul to soul, heart to heart_

_Twined together never to part_

_To uphold a Sparrow in his flight_

_As ye are caressed by the dawn's first light.___

_There was an odd sense of things he couldn't quite see happening as he crossed the now rolling deck te give Mallory his bag. The lady had gotten very pale and still at Mallory's feet. He took the bag without a word and knelt over her neatly cutting her shirt away so that he had clear access to the long deep gash nearly the full length o her forearm. Only after he'd cleaned, stitched, and bandaged the wound did he cradle her gently in his arms and raise her from the deck. Her long red-gold hair nearly brushed the bloody boards as he hitched her dead weight a bit more securely in his arms._

_"Would you get the door to the mate's cabin for me Sparrow?"_

_Mallory set her on the edge of the mate's bunk, gently stripped her of the bloody, ravaged bodice, chemise, and skirt, and only then laid her back on the bunk in her small clothes. He gathered up the bedraggled clothing before slipping out of the cabin._

_ Mid morning found him yawning while Mallory yammered on about some such as he mended the lady's now clean clothing. He gave the loose tooth another wiggle. Tomorrow, definitely. There was an ungodly shriek from below. Mallory grinned and knotted off the seam he'd been stitching "Beautiful timing. Care to join me?"_

_Daft, he reflected, the man was utterly daft but the seamen seemed impressed with him and the Black __Pearl__ appeared te be everything he'd promised. Competent and daft that was Mallory fore and aft but he followed in his wake as he headed first for the galley and then for the mate's cabin._

_ Mallory passed him the tray while he retained the neatly folded clothing himself. He knock politely and was met by a spitting wild cat o a woman._

_"Ou est mes vestments!?"_

_Mallory proffered the lady's clothes with a flourish in reply. They were snatched quicker'n a bottle rum by a pirate crew and the door was slammed in his face. Mallory just arched a brow and smirked._

_"I brought a light repast. If you are so inclined we might discuss your destination over lunch" he said courteously to the door._

_Being dressed had clearly NOT improved the woman's temper as the door was flung open._

_"Vous!__ Vous! You said no one would lay a finger on me and I wake to find myself" she flung her hands wide as words failed her._

_"I could hardly wash and mend your much abused clothing with you in it and I did promise to tuck you into bed. None of my crew has dishonored you. Truth told until your protest a few moments ago none of them were even aware of your presence." Mallory spread his hands "I see no cause for complaint."_

_She clearly swallowed several replies before settling on "This isn't te become a habit."_

_"Of course not" Mallory riposted "I have NO intention, madam, of becoming either your laundress or your tailor." He set the tray on the tiny table "Now, your destination?"_

_She sat heavily on the edge of the bunk and sighed "Jean didn't just lose" her breath hitched "me in that damn game he lost our boat, everything. I have murdered mon marie, mon Jean, and I have no where to go Captain. They will hang me or burn me for what I have done."_

_"You lost a fair bit of blood. You need to eat madam."_

_"Marie, call me Marie."_

_Mallory canted his head "And a sling would not go amiss." He laid one gently on the bunk before sitting in the cabin's only chair "It occurs to me that you served as your husband's first mate. I was unable to secure a suitable mate in __Tortuga__." He arched one dark brow at her._

_"Are ye offering me the position?" she looked at him in shock._

_He took a sip from one of the crystal glasses "Aye, I am."_

_"Mais" she floundered._

_"Is this the same woman who intended to make herself captain just a few hours ago at pistol point? I assume since you intended to commandeer the __Pearl__ that you have some idea both of how to sail and to navigate."_

_'Oui, but of course."___

_"And as mate aboard your husband's vessel you commanded the men on your watches?"_

_"Oui, but the crew knew me, had seen me tested by both storm and cannon, your men"_

_"Will obey orders or face the reckoning. This is no pirate vessel, madam. The crew has no vote in the running of **this** ship. These are my Articles written in plain enough English that you should have no trouble following them. If you commit yourself to being my mate you will be as bound to them as any other crewman. I will make no allowances for your sex and any man who does not grant you the respect your position demands will answer to me." He leaned back, plucked a handful of grapes from the tray, and ate them slowly while awaiting her answer._

_"Ye're a hard man, Captain Mallory, and a fair one if you actually intend to stick to these."_

_"You will find, madam, that I neither give nor break my word lightly. I will keep them and so will anyone who sails under my command." There was a dark and dangerous tone in his voice that promised dire consequences for the man who broke the Articles._

_"D'accord, I'll sign yer Articles."_

_"Welcome to the Black __Pearl__, madam. And I solemnly swear to never bet you on a roll of the dice." He rose gracefully and bowed though the confines of the cabin made it less sweeping than was his wont. They left the cabin. Mallory shut the door behind them but waited just outside for several beats before sticking his head back in._

_"I can't abide dice so I'm afraid I'll only be able to wager you at whist but I promise to never be so careless as to lose you."_

_She gaped in shock just long enough for Mallory to get the door closed before a rain of objects bounced off it accompanied by a __river__ of __French__ curses._

_Mallory leaned against the wall shoulders shaking with mirth. When he had mastered himself he said green eyes twinkling "There is nothing more pathetic than a simpering woman and only two things more glorious than a strong one in her wrath – a new dawn and the Sea in a storm. This, my young friend, is going to be most amusing."_

_And with that the mad man made for the deck with so light a step he was nigh to skipping._

Anna-Maria gawked at Jack "Captain Jack Sparrow ye've told me some tall tales in yer day but that has got te be the biggest load o malarkey te ever grace yer lips."

"When Mallory's of a better mood ask him or when we reach Cap Francois ye ask yer mother but it's plain truth."

"But he never treated mama with anything but the utmost reserve and respect."

"He always treated her with an odd brand o respect but the reserve didn't start until after Portobello."

"And what happened in Portobello?"

Jack frowned "Don't know, come te think on it. Guess I aught te ask bout that one o these days." A flutter of hands "As I said it started **after **Portobello not **in **Portobello. Honestly pay a bit o attention…"

_ The bell rang. Three bells into the forenoon watch. **Three **bells – which was two bells past when Mallory should have been back. The voices in the air that he tried so hard to ignore had gone from their usual whispers to shouting at someone named Rhys. He felt a brush o sympathy for this 'Rhys' if all the ambushes and traps the air was yelling about were real. He also wondered if this Rhys could even hear himself think over all the chatter. Yet every so often another light, lilting voice that he could only assume was Rhys would engage the air in an active banter about whatever was happening. And then the chatter stopped, so abruptly that he wondered if he'd suddenly gone deaf._

_"Captain's late, madam" William Kidd said from his position at the rail._

_"I know that" Marie snapped._

_"They don't care much for Englishmen here, madam" Bailey grumbled nervously "It's a lovely ship – wasted."_

_"What are you suggesting?"_

_"We weigh anchor. And put this ship te better use."_

_ You even **think** about it, bitch, and I'll drop a block and tackle on your head _

_"Ye son of a bitch" William Kidd snapped before knocking Bailey across the deck with a right hook._

_ Knew there was a reason I **like** you _

_"I take it you had a different idea" Marie responded without even glancing at the downed Bailey._

_"Give me a handful o the crew and we'll go look for him" Kidd gave the harbor a worried look._

_"I'm touched" Mallory's voice came from behind them "but that won't be necessary. Madam if you would take us out. Set course for __Havana__ full sail. Nice punch." He headed straight for his cabin. Marie shouted a few orders, nodded te Kidd who took over, and followed Mallory. He slipped in on Marie's heels and watched as Mallory hit several of the levers that revealed and filled the cleverly hidden tub._

_"Ye were late Captain."_

_"Your pardon I was unavoidably detained. And I thought I put you on watch."_

_"Mr. Kidd can handle it."_

_"Lovely, perhaps I should make him mate since he still follows orders."_

_"Ye didn't even inquire about the cargo. Yer not out on deck. Ye were two bells late. What's amiss?"_

_"Madam, has it occurred to you that after nine months as my first mate that I might, possibly, have enough faith in your abilities to declare you competent to load a cargo, plot a course to a well known port, and take us out of a familiar harbor, without my hovering over you every second?"_

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Getting ready to take a bath.__ So unless you'd like to stick around to scrub my back I suggest you return to your duties. You and Sparrow both. And kindly shut the door behind you."_

_She looked down at him and he shrugged – how should he know what was amiss with the mad man other than his fetish for cleanliness? He beat a hasty retreat from the cabin afore Mallory decided **he** was also in need of another bath._

_ The sun was setting. He looked back over at their cabin door. Not a peep out o Mallory since this morning. He ran his tongue through the gap in his teeth. Still no new ones. Mallory had said they'd grow in in their own time but fer now he looked like a snaggle toothed idiot. Enough was enough his duties were done fer today and this was usually the hour when Mallory drug him off fer his book learning. He glanced at the cabin door worry fer Mallory warring with his reluctance te go back te conjugation o French and Latin verbs. Or maybe it'd be more history tonight. He preferred the verbs, Mallory could go on, and on, and on, and on about history. _

_"Oh bugger" he glanced around but Marie was no where in site. Mallory wouldn't let her cuff him but that didn't mean she wouldn't find some other punishment fer him if she caught him cursing. There was nothing fer it, he'd just have te brave the verbs and go in there after Mallory. A course a night off from his studies would awfully nice. There was no need te rock the boat just yet. He took another look at the calm __Caribbean__ evening afore heading for the cabin._

_ He glanced at the desk first since that was always the most likely place te find Mallory. Empty. The bunk. Empty. He couldn't still be in the bloody tub – could he? He'd be a human raisin by now. But he was with his head tilted at a damned uncomfortable looking angle. He nearly slipped back out – it was hardly the first time Mallory had cat napped in the tub. But never **all day**. And he was far too light a sleeper te have slept through him coming in – except he had. He reached out te shake his shoulder and hissed as he released it immediately. Burning, he was so burning hot it was a marvel that the tub water wasn't steaming. Not sleeping either. He bolted out o the cabin looking fer Marie. _

_ She laid a hand on him and drew it back in alarm._

_"Ye great bloody fool."__ She tried te shake him awake but his bare shoulders must o been damp and slick cause he slipped right through her fingers and under the water. Marie muttered a curse in French and then yanked him up by his braid. **That** certainly got a reaction. For a second he thought Mallory was going te kill her with his bare hands. _

_"You'd better have good cause for this intrusion, woman."_

_Marie was almost as angry herself "Why didn't ye bloody say ye were bloody sick?" she shouted._

_Mallory had sort o slumped back down inte the water "Je ne suis pas malade."_

_"Oh, really?__ Ye've got a blazing fever, ye can't keep yer eyes open, fer God's sake ye fell asleep in the bloody bath. Ye're sick, Captain."_

_He shook his head slightly "**Not** sick, poisoned. Ca ira."_

_"What kind o bloody fool admits te being poisoned and then tries te say he's fine in the same breath?"_

_"Alright I'll **be** fine if someone will see to sailing the __Pearl__ while I sleep this off in **peace**."_

_"In the damn bain?__ Ye'll bloody drown!"_

_Mallory didn't answer because Mallory was out cold (or would that be out hot?) again. _

_"Oh, no ye don't" she slapped him but he didn't stir. "Alright" she wrapped a hand in his hair and yanked again._

_"What do you **want**?" his green eyes were already sliding back shut._

_"I want ye out o this bloody bain" she cracked him across the face._

_"Harpy" he muttered._

_"Out.__ Of. The. __Bath__. Captain."_

_"Will you leave me alone then?"_

_"Word o honor."___

_He heaved himself out o the water grabbing his sheathed dagger from the edge o tub before rolling still naked and dripping inte the bunk. One green eye slid open "Why are you still ici?"_

_She dropped a blanket over him. "Stay with him" he nodded and curled up as close te Mallory as the inferno radiating off o him would allow but for the first time being near Mallory didn't make him feel safe. The heat made him sleepy though and he slipped off._

_ He woke up shivering. Mallory had gone from an inferno te clammy and cold._

_"Please be alright."_

"Sparrow?" Ye could see him fighting te keep his eyes open "I'll be fine, scamp. By morning this will be nothing but an unpleasant memory."

_"Promise?"___

_"Je vous le promets" he lost his battle te keep his eyes open._

_He turned te the door as Marie slipped in with a tray "Ye missed dinner, petit."_

_'I'm not little' he thought sullenly 'And I missed me verbs.' He glanced back at Mallory so still and pale behind him 'never would have thought I'd miss conjugating verbs.' He stuck the tip of his tongue through the gap in his teeth and glanced at Mallory again_

_"I don't like te eat by me onesies."_

_She glanced over at his unused bunk "Do ye want me te stay, petit?"_

_"Please, pitie."_

_"He's a tough one is the Captain. I've never seen anyone who knows more than he does about healing. If he says he'll be fine, petit, then he will be."_

_He was hungry and if there was one thing those years on the street had taught him it was to never refuse a meal. He ate heartily in spite o the fact that the wrong person was sitting across from him. He rubbed an eye, must have gotten something in it. He should work on his verbs. Marie was French – maybe she would help and then he'd have something te show Mallory tomorrow._

_ Something was wrong. Mallory's breathing was smooth and even and both the blazing fever and clammy cold from earlier had been replaced by his usual warmth. So what was wrong?_

_ Who the hell are you? __Pearl__ sounded frightened._

_He grabbed Mallory's pistol – nobody scares **his** ship! He shot the first man over the rail but he lost the second pistol because of the bone jarring recoil of the first. Oh, not good! The pirates didn't look very pleased. Not very pleased at all. This might, just possibly, have been a tactical error. Time for a strategic retreat. Um – well, um, outgunned, out numbered – alright time te even up the odds._

_"MALLORY!!"__ MALLORY he could swear that the __Pearl__ shrieked at the same moment he yelled. Together they should have awakened the dead. Not being dead Mallory came out o the bunk like someone had gaffed him with a poker. The first man was down afore they even knew he was among em. The rest found the sight o a butt naked man with naught but a dagger highly amusing - for a split second. Marie had followed Mallory out onte the deck and had promptly gotten entangled in a messy three-on-one. He was just trying te figure how te give her a hand when Mr. Kidd and the rest o the crew joined the party. Good, no worries then. He moved further up the deck so he could watch without getting trampled. Mallory was really quite pale. He wondered if that was on account o the poison. Nope, pale all the time. He could really use a good tan. _

_"Gottcha!!" someone who consumed FAR too much garlic shouted in his ear. That wasn't very nice, no need for shouting. He was right here after all and HE knew he'd been nabbed. He liked garlic too but only in moderation. Mallory had taught him that word. Mallory had an inordinate fondness fer really big words and an insistence that he learn them. He tested his captor's grip. Quite firm and he wasn't greased. Always us te grease his arms back when he was a slip – made it harder fer someone te latch onte ye. He went still, waiting. He was still Jack Sparrow after all and he always got away – it was just a matter o time. Mallory gutted his final opponent and stalked forward. The pirate tightened his grip until it was painful. _

_"Ah, ah Captain – now what's the mite worth?"_

_ Just get him to take one step to starboard _

_Mallory took a step forward the pirate sidled right and a block and tackle nailed him in the noggin._

_"Nicely done, lass" Mallory whispered._

_ Merci _

_Boats do not talk. It was a figment o his overactive imagination. Really. He glanced at the pirate's cracked open head. They just don't._

_"What are you all staring at? Get this mess cleaned up. Now." Mallory ran his eyes over him "You alright Sparrow?"_

_He nodded and Mallory turned te inspect the crew._

_"Marie?!"__ The crew scrambled out o his way. He gave her a quick once over. _

_"Why is it I always seem to be stitching you back up?"_

_She started te shrug and then hissed in pain. _

_"Sparrow fetch me some rum, half and half."_

_"Half and half?"___

_"Half in your belly and half on your arm."___

_She bit down on a chunk o leather while Mallory stitched the same forearm up, again. It wasn't until he'd stitched and bandaged all the minor wounds that he rounded on the assembled crew._

_"Now, who was on watch?"_

_"Bailey, sir."___

_Mallory whirled on Marie "What in bloody hell was Bailey doing on a night watch? Damn it woman I expect you to have the sense God gave a grasshopper. And where were you when this little fracas started? And why are we under so little sail? The night is fair and the wind in our favor."_

_"In yer bloody cabin worried about ye, though God alone knows why! And I didn't want te get too far out o Portobello in case ye needed a bloody doctor."_

_"William Kidd!"_

_"Aye captain."___

_"Congratulations, you're first mate. See that you do a better job of following orders than your predecessor."_

_Marie heaved herself up off the deck "With all due respect Captain, I."_

_"Consider your words very carefully because you're inches from either the brig or the gratings – possibly both. I ordered full sail out of Portobello for several reasons not the least of which was to get ahead of these fools. We didn't lose anyone but Bailey tonight and that's the only thing keeping you off the gratings."_

_"Ye'd flog me?"_

_"In a heartbeat."__ He wrapped a hand around hers and yanked her none to gently te her feet. She swayed at the sudden change and he caught her. They glared at each other for a moment both spitting mad but she didn't struggle te get out o his arms and for just a second it looked like they might do something truly disgusting – like kiss. But Mallory dumped her on her arse with a muttered curse and stalked off te their cabin._

_ He emerged a few moments later, clothed. _

_"Alter course, due west then come about west by southwest."_

_"Begging yer pardon sir, but that'll take us away from __Havana__."_

_"Indeed it will, we make for Vera Cruz."_

_No one had the courage te ask why._

_ By late afternoon the __Yucatan__ was visible in the distance. _

_"Clear for action" Mallory bellowed as he watched something in the distance through his glass. The crew looked at the smooth, empty seas in confusion but didn't mutter a word._

_"Sparrow" he was surprised when Mallory set him on his shoulders and offered him is glass "What do you see?"_

_"A battle" he breathed "There's a battle ahead."_

_"Indeed there is. Can ye tell who?"_

_He strained his eyes "No."_

_"You should listen more and look less. The Spaniards have finally pinned De Griffe. Three ships of the line have him and the __Neptune__ trapped against the coast. He can't get past them because they have the weather gauge and they have six times his fire power."_

_"Then he is lost."_

_"Not just yet he isn't."___

_"We're going te save De Griffe?" Now there was a thing te brag about. Better even then stealing Morgan's purse! De Griffe was a pirate and a gentleman – no matter what his breeding. Never killed more than he had to, hell, sometimes he even saved lives by lending a helping hand te distressed ships. He even fought duels with other pirate captains te keep them from being cruel te the hostages. When he was a pirate captain he'd be like De Griffe. And now he was going te help save him from the Spanish and see the __Pearl__'s first real battle all in the same day!_

_"Now, Sparrow" Mallory swung him down from his shoulders "I need you to stay in our cabin."_

_No, he couldn't mean it._

_"Sparrow" Mallory caught his chin "If I can't trust you to stay in the cabin I'll lock you in the brig. Marie, you and Evans are to join Sparrow." Mallory handed him his pistols "Since you've proven you know how to use them – you're in charge of guarding the wounded. You take care of Marie-Anne, compris?"_

_Oh, but she was still fighting mad. He'd much rather be out on deck and not just because it would be more exciting. He might actually be safer than with Marie. By now ye could hear the thunder o the guns in the distance and even the men could see the battle ahead. She stormed inte the cabin with Evans limping behind them. Lovely, just lovely, now he was stuck in the bloody cabin with the crips._

_The guns made such a roar he was sure he'd deafened forever and the smoke was a choking blanket through which he could barely even see the Spanish warships. He nearly dropped his pistol. They were BLOODY HUGE!! Double or even triple the __Pearl__. Deck rising on deck with as many gun ports on a single side as __Pearl__ had in total. There were three of these monsters holding de Griffe trapped against the shore? As they turned and delivered their first broadside he caught the name o the Spanish ship Jesus, Maria, y Jose. Peering through the smoke he could just make out one o the others – something or other __Concepcion__. He cheered – he couldn't help it. The Spaniards had been so focused on De Griffe they'd never even noticed __Pearl__ coming up from windward. They'd pounded her with a full broadside and the Spanish hadn't even gotten off so much as a musket shot. He nearly landed on his bum as the ship came about._

_"Damn, but she'll spin on a piece o eight" Evans mumbled in awe as they gave the Jesus another broadside. This time the __Pearl__ shuddered as at least one shot thudded home._

_ #$!! the __Pearl__ sounded far more angry than hurt but suddenly he was fighting mad – somebody had blown a hole in HIS SHIP!!_

_Evans and Marie both shot to their feet._

_"He's a mad man" Evans swore "He'll take us flat aback. We'll be sitting ducks!"_

_There was a thundering roar and the Jesus listed onte her side and only slowly righted herself. _

_"Crazy like a fox" Marie muttered. The Jesus wasn't going to hit them again any time soon but the __Concepcion__ was coming up fast. Another boat about half again the __Pearl__ herself sailed past clearly struggling te get through the hole the __Pearl__ had punched before __Concepcion__ closed it. That **had** te be the __Neptune__! Mallory brought them back around again in a tack that felt like it was going te roll them and staggered the Conception before turning their heels te follow __Neptune_

_ Evans ruffled his hair "Come on lad. It's all over now but the shouting."_

_He surveyed his ship as they left the cabin. Some holes in the rigging and sails and one in the upper gun deck. He wondered idly how he knew just where the hole was. Interesting, very interesting. Mallory was overseeing clean up and watching the __Neptune__ through his glass. _

_Mallory hissed in sympathy "What a bloody mess." He passed him the glass "Care to see what twelve hours outgunned and outmanned can do to a ship?"_

_"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph" he whispered._

_"Watch yer mouth" Marie grumbled._

_"That would account for about a third of the damage."_

_What a mess. He passed back the glass wanting nothing so much as te throw up. Hull, sail, and rigging had more holes than a round o Swiss cheese and the decks were awash not with sea water but blood. Bits o men were scattered everywhere._

_"Are ye going te help them?"_

_"I intend to but I have to reach an accord with their captain first. Run up a flag o parley and tell them te launch a boat or we'll blow what's left of them out of the water."_

_ He couldn't stand still – De Griffe was coming aboard his ship!! The tall mulatto Captain was easy to spot in the jolly boat. He stepped aboard straight and proud in spite o being bloodied and looking tired enough te sleep on his feet. _

_"Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"  
  
_

_Mallory inclined his head ever so slightly "Captain Mallory of the Black __Pearl__."_

_"And what purpose does a mad man have in rescuing a pirate?"_

_"Where I mad would I require a purpose? But come, if we are to fence with words let us at least do it over a meal."_

_De Griffe did not budge "I will not rest in comfort while my men toil. Speak your mind Captain. I have much to do."_

_"As you like, let us be blunt then, one man of action to another. Your vessel is near to sinking. You have lost your surgeon, your carpenter, and your sail maker. You barely have the men to set things right even if you had the supplies and skills which you do not. But even worse to get past __Concepcion__ you jettisoned your cannon. You have only enough powder aboard to blow your ship up. And between you and the nearest friendly port are four more Spanish warships. Not the lumbering ships of the line we've escaped but a sloop and three frigates. You can't outrun them without serious repairs and you have no means to fight them. But you have just finished several successful raids give my crew an equal share of the swag and we will see you safely to port."_

_"And I suppose you'll be taking a Captain's share for yourself?"_

_"No – what I want is your word of honor, one Captain to another, that as I have done you a great favor you shall repay in kind at my time and choosing. You owe me your life Captain and the lives of your crew."_

_"And will it be my life you'll be asking for Captain Mallory?"_

_Mallory gave him an odd smile "Not exactly. Do we have an accord? Time waits on no man – and several elements of Admiral Ochoa's fleet are still hunting you."_

_"We have an accord."_

_Mallory ordered the already prepare and provisioned long boat lowered._

_ He **ached**. Mallory was worse than a slave driver. He'd never dreamed it was possible to be this sore or this tired but the __Neptune__ was finally put to rights. Well, as much as could be done at sea anyway. He really needed some time in dry dock but at least the wounded were stitched and bandaged, the sails would hold (though more than half were black since they were Pearl's spares), the rigging wouldn't send men to their deaths, and the holes were mostly patched. Pearl was standing a bit off the larger __Neptune__'s lee guarding the crippled and weaponless ship on the long run back te Petit Groave. He wanted te ask Mallory what it was he wanted o De Griffe but he was asleep afore he could think te ask._

_ Petit Groave – not quite as well known a Hell Town as say Tortuga and for that reason it catered te a slightly better grade of pirate. Captain De Griffe was clearly playing court te Mallory. How could anyone in their right minds pass up the chance te be one o De Griffe's captains?!! A course Mallory wasn't in his right mind – that probably explained it._

_"You can dress that lady of yours in the harbor up any way you like Captain Mallory but she's still a warship, plain and simple."_

_"Technically, Captain De Griffe, she isn't mine, I only hold her in trust for another."_

_"You can't deny she's built for war."_

_"Then I shan't bother."_

_"Then why sail her under merchant colors? I know what I saw and you're no more a merchant captain than she's a merchant ship."_

_"I will not sail her under pirate colors."_

_"But ye've sailed under 'em yourself I'll wager."_

_"On occasion, when it has suited my purpose.__ Today, I regret, it does not."_

_"And what purpose did saving the __Neptune__ serve?"_

_"My fancy, I have no love for __Spain__ and your escapades amuse me" Mallory sipped delicately at his pineapple juice. "And now you owe me a favor."_

_De Griffe stiffened "And will it now be named?"_

_Mallory appraised the man before him "You will wed my former first mate."_

_De Griffe dropped his mug spilling wine across the table "Surely you jest?"_

_"No."_

_"You want me to marry Marie-Anne Dieu-le-Veut? They say she murdered her husband."_

_"She does have a formidable temper."_

_"I can't. I'm already married to Petronila" De Griffe looked absolutely terrified._

_"Whom the Spanish will never let you see again.__ Given all the laws you've broken you can't possibly expect me to believe you'd balk at mere bigamy" Mallory retorted calmly "I've seen the way you watch her when you think no one else is looking."_

_"Just because she's beautiful doesn't mean I want te bloody marry her!"_

_"Sh-sh, she'll hear you. Here I am offering you the greatest treasure of your life, a jewel worth more than rubies"_

_'That was from Proverbs somewhere – wasn't it – something about a virtuous woman. Was that ANOTHER loose tooth?_

_"and you scorn it. I thought you a wiser man than that."_

_"If she's so wonderful why aren't you marrying her?"_

_Mallory sighed "Would that I could but fate is neither that cruel nor that kind. Best by far that she is yours. Or will you break your sworn word?" His eyes glowed in the torch light "I warn you. You break faith with me only at gravest peril."_

_"I don't like being" he began but Mallory cut him off making a comment so salacious it would have made a Tortugan whore blush and he made it in a perfect imitation of **De Griffe's **voice. He dove under the table wanting no part of the hurricane te come! Marie spun pistol appearing in her hand like magic eyes blazing and narrowed "Who said that?"_

_Mallory merely arched one dark brow at De Griffe who swallowed. Very brave man, De Griffe, he'd have already been commandeering the nearest boat. He wiggled – yep yet another loose tooth – if some new ones didn't make their appearance soon he was going te have te gum his food te death – was that De Griffe stuttering out a marriage proposal? He banged his head hard enough on the table te see stars. Just as well he was short so many teeth or he'd have bitten his tongue. He peeked cautiously out. Yep proposal made and accepted - wedding tonight. Talk about rushing inte things._

_ "Stop fidgeting" Mallory commanded (surprisingly clearly giving that his mouth was full o pins)._

_"I can't believe you did this to me"_

_"You'll thank me later."_

_"Will there be a later? This is the woman who shot her last husband." De Griffe complained while fidgeting. _

_"You'll get accustomed to each other." Mallory sucked on a thumb having apparently stabbed it with the needle when De Griffe moved._

_"I've gotten **accustomed** to waking up alive."_

_"Well, several words of advice then. Don't use her as an ante in a game of chance. She seems to take that terribly personally. And find a new line of work. Piracy is far more likely to kill you than Marie." Mallory stepped back to view his handiwork. "It'll have to do. I've got to give Marie a hand now." Mallory handed him his pistol "You stay here Sparrow and make sure he doesn't try to escape." He grinned widely. He was going to get to hold a pistol on De Griffe?! Now that was something te talk about! Then he spotted himself in the mirror. When had that gap gotten so big. Damn it! When were his new teeth going to make their appearance?_

_"You aren't seriously going to let an eight year old hold me at pistol point, are you?"_

_Mallory just winked at him "See Marie might not be so bad after all."_

_"Great and I suppose the bride will be wearing a bandolier as well?"_

_Oh but Mallory's eyes lit up at the very thought and he was off like a shot._

_"So, lad"_

_"Jack Sparrow, if ye please."_

_"Mr. Sparrow, what would it take to get you to lower that pistol?"_

_He took a step back so that De Griffe couldn't catch him unawares with a sudden lunge._

_"Jewels?__ Gold? Promotion? You're a little young for a doxy. What will it be Mr. Sparrow?"_

_He thought long and hard about it without ever letting the gun waver "Me two front teeth?"_

Jack was forced to stop because no one could hear over Anna-Maria's laughter.

"Ye didn't – did ye? Ye asked mon pere fer yer two front teeth?"

Jack rolled his eyes "Would I have told ye something that ridiculous if it wasn't true?"

She sniffled and buried her head against Jack's chest.

"I know, luv, I know."

Elizabeth gave them a few minutes and then asked "So what was it you wanted your log book and charts for?"

Jack pulled the rolled chart and battered book from somewhere near his feet. "There's a few questions I'd like te put te yer father, whelp." His eyes asked permission to summon him.

I nodded. I wasn't quite ready to welcome him with open arms again yet but I was over that first flush of anger.

Jack, called to my father, flipped the log open, and laid it on the chart. "Now, Pearl, luv, you've always had a much better head for navigation than ol'Jack so how's about ye do the plotting? That's a lass. Now, what was our position the other day when Mallory arrived?" A black ship appeared on the chart. "Now back that out a thousand miles" a dotted line intersected with a small island off the coast of Venezuela. He tapped the log book "This was our position New Year's Day 1709 just afore that storm hit – would ye be a beauty and plot that? Now if we had listen te the Wind shrieking about Rhys and let it take us were would we have gone?" A second dotted line to the same island.

Jack turned his attention to my father "Do ye have any idea, Bill, where Shamatiri is?"

My father shook his head "No idea. I know we went west-northwest te Aruba."

Jack traced it with a finger and passed near the other lines. Jack's face went very grim. "Lass, question fer ye? Ye hear Wind and Sea and Peregrine hears Wind and Sea. Where is Peregrine?" A red ship appeared. "And where are we?" The black ship was less than a finger's length ahead. "Plot the Peregrine for the last three sunrises." The Peregrine began his run from the same little island – and was clearly OVERTAKING the Pearl from far behind.

"Hey, ye promised **me** the fastest ship." Jack sounded out and out sulky. He glanced up at Anna-Maria "I think luv if ye don't mind after the ceremony in Cap Francois we should head down te the island."

"What ceremony would that be Captain Jack Sparrow?" she asked eyes narrowed.

Jack drew a long fortifying breath and pulled a ring set with a black pearl out of his jacket "Anna-Maria, will ye marry me?"


	14. Interlude

**Author's notes: **Due to intermittent power outages the last chapter went out without its historical notes and it's last three pages. So – Marie-Anne Dieu-le-Veut was in fact the widow of an 'adventurer' when she married Laurens Baldran (aka De Griffe) but I haven't a clue as to the nature and manner of her first husband's death. (I doubt highly that the real Marie-Anne shot him for loosing her on a roll of the dice but you never know Hell Towns were rough places and stranger things happened in them). In real history De Griffe committed bigamy by marrying Marie-Anne sometime in the early 1680's just after capturing the Princesa which he renamed the Neptune and his successful raid on Vera Cruz. It was during this raid that he did in fact kill the pirate Captain Van Hoorn in a duel (well ok he just wounded him a little but the cut went gangrenous and he died in agony a couple of days later) over the treatment of their hostages. Van Hoorn having grown weary of waiting for the ransom had started cutting chunks out of the prisoners and was going to start sending heads in baskets back to the families. De Griffe being a reasonably decent chap (for a pirate) by all contemporary accounts took extreme exception to this behavior.

Of course the Spanish were none too happy with the escaped slave who kept making fools of them and an armada under the command of Admiral Andres de Ochoa was sent to find De Griffe and sink the Neptune at all costs. In September of 1685 (just after the birth of he and Marie-Anne's first daughter) De Griffe and four of his ships were spotted off the Cayman Islands. Massively outmanned and outgunned by the Spanish flotilla the pirates scattered. (It appears the Spanish fleet was comprised of at least a dozen ships 3 'of the line', 4 frigates, at least 1 sloop, and 4 for which I could find neither name nor type) Two of De Griffe's ships were captured or destroyed almost immediately. The Spanish fleet divided to track the remaining three with the three ships of the line and one swift frigate pursuing De Griffe's Neptune. With the frigate to harass him he couldn't take advantage of Neptune's greater speed and was eventually trapped against the Gulf Coast just north of the Yucatan. There he turned and fought. The Spanish ships were bigger and more powerful but the Neptune was 'nimbler' but evening the Spanish had fired over 420 cannon balls and 1600 musket balls at the Neptune without managing a single **crippling** blow to the ship. But by now De Griffe was desperate and nearly out of powder. In a final gamble he jettisoned everything (including his cannon) but the remaining powder. It worked, when the Santo Cristo tried to come around to block him her battered superstructure collapsed. The Jesus, Maria, y Jose was also near to sinking and the Concepcion broke off pursuit to assist their crews. The Neptune sailed free – 4 on 1, 3 of them more powerful than the Neptune and the fourth an even match and 2 of the Spanish vessels would have to be scuttled!!

For my purposes I've made the Spanish response a bit quicker so that the raid, the battle and the wedding all take place in 1683-1684 instead of 1682-1685.

There are in fact multiple accounts of De Griffe coming across ships that had been crippled by storms and not only **not** pillaging them but giving them assistance in the form of water, food, masts, and sails. Though he did have an unremitting hatred of the Spanish even in Vera Cruz he risked his own life for decent treatment of **Spanish** hostages. Strange attitude for a pirate but there it is in history. Of course I doubt there were very many career opportunities for an escaped slave in the late 1600's so he may not have had much of a choice about turning pirate.

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 11 – Three Weddings – Tales of Determined Damsels, Distressed Pirates, and a Devious (Or possibly just Demented) Elf – Interlude**

Anna-Maria just stared at the ring rendered utterly speechless.

"Where did ye get it?" she finally breathed. It really was an exceptional piece – fine platinum filigree, far more delicate than any of my work, and making the mounts for all the small but fiery diamonds and rubies that ringed the perfect central pearl must have taken forever.

"Now mind, luv, I treasure yer inquisitive nature - and yer acquisitive nature - but I asked ye a question first." Jack sighed "Mallory must have slipped it inte me pocket the other night."

Gemstones really were Mallory's forte. He was competent enough in the forge but his iron work **never** displayed this kind of artistry.

Anna-Marie gave Jack a look that made me wonder how much time she'd spent with Mallory before nodding "I'll wed ye, Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Yer enthusiasm is overwhelming, lass" Jack commented dryly just before Anna-Maria started crying. Jack shot Elizabeth a questioning look. She shrugged and gestured for him to comfort Anna-Maria. Jack gathered her up and she sobbed into his chest. He made soothing noises to her and shot Elizabeth desperate 'what did I do wrong?' glances. I couldn't decide if I found Elizabeth's confused looks reassuring or disconcerting. On one hand I didn't know what she was upset about and it nice to know that even Elizabeth couldn't figure it out on the other hand it would be nice to know what Jack had done wrong so I could avoid it myself in the future, meanwhile Anna-Maria just kept on crying. She hiccupped a couple of times and Jack passed her a handkerchief.

Jack tipped her face up and dried her tears "Anna?"

She sniffled and blew her nose "He's gone – who's going te give me away?" She curled back up against Jack who looked momentarily relieved that it wasn't something he'd done and then crestfallen that this wasn't something he could fix.

"I've dreamed o our wedding day as long as I can remember and it was always mon pere that gave me te ye. And now he's g-g-g" she went back to sobbing on Jack who rocked her. "Would ye mind?"

"Mind what, luv?"

"If I asked Mallory te give me away. I know ye probably wanted him beside ye but he is me godfather and with, with. He's who ma mere would want te do it."

I felt an inexplicable flash of jealousy at that though it wasn't as if I had ever been promised that he was only **my **fairy godfather.

"We'll ask him luv" he glanced over Anna-Maria's head at my father and I "That is o course if the Turner twins would do me the honor o standing beside me?"

My father shot me a glance that was equal parts panic and plea. I nodded "We'd be honored."

"Good now that that's settled on te the good part!" He rose pulling Anna-Maria up with him "Gibbs, Cotton, Marty fetch us some rum – drinks all around!! Anna-Maria and I have an announcement te make – we're getting MARRIED!"

Jack's statement was met with wild cheers.

Lovely, another night with drunken pirates – at least they'd been well behaved around Elizabeth last time. (Or at least I assumed they had been. The Governor certainly would have commented if they hadn't.)

Jack eyes went to the hatch with a sigh. I followed his gaze and just spotted Mallory as he headed for the stern. I glanced back at Jack in confusion. He couldn't possibly have missed that cheer – why hadn't he come over to pay his respects? Anna-Maria had also seen Mallory and began to rise but Jack caught her hand.

"I wanted te ask him about the ceremony" she protested in confusion. Jack's eyes narrowed as he looked in Mallory's direction.

Jack fluttered his expressive fingers "I'll call him over in a minute, luv. When I do I want ye te look him in the eye. It won't be easy. Ye'll want te look down – don't and then tell ol'Jack who ye don't see."

"What do you think we'll see?" Elizabeth challenged.

Jack shook his head sending those ridiculous beads of his swaying and shot my father a slightly resentful glance "I've been called daft once too often for saying it so I'll just let ye form yer own opinions." And with that he bellowed "Mallory!"

Mallory reappeared and made his way over to us with his normal grace. I threw Jack a questioning look but he ignored it. Mallory looked fine. And then I glanced up, tried to meet his eyes, and dropped my own immediately. I steeled myself and made a second attempt. I'd seen more life in the portraits on the Governor's wall and three day dead fish. I'd thought his eyes were dead that day building cells – I was wrong that was only a pale shadow of this. He gave us a graceful half-bow "Do you require something Captain Sparrow?"

The voice was **utterly** normal, coolly reserved, but normal but the eyes, those dead eyes never moved. They just kept staring emptily out at the horizon.

"Just a report on how are the repairs proceeding."

I wasn't even half listening as he gave Jack a complete report on the Pearl's status down to every waterlogged knothole. If you didn't try to make eye contact you'd never know. Elizabeth shivered beside me as he took his leave and disappeared back toward the stern.

Jack's eyes met mine and he said in a reasonably good impression of Mallory "'The point of the difaenaids' attacks was to render me mindless. They came too damn close'" He shivered himself "Never understood that look afore the other night. Now I think I do. 'Things slip' – no wonder 'lost in the dark'" he whispered "He's not **there**, not really, but he'll respond. Hell, I've seen him command a battle like that." His gaze flickered to Elizabeth "That's why I didn't want ye going after him right now, lass. Mallory would be charming, likely turn the other cheek, and find ye damn amusing but that shell… It just responds – usually lethally." He sighed "Thank God he doesn't get this bad very often."

"So that's what he meant" I whispered.

Jack looked at me questioningly. I swallowed before confessing "He spoke to me a little the other night after everyone else was asleep." Oh but I could see in both Jack and Elizabeth's eyes that I was in for it. "Mostly it was a good bye. He didn't say so but I had the feeling that he was never going to see me again. So I asked him 'aren't you going to be in Cap Francois?' and he replied 'in a manner of speaking.'" I focused on Jack "I don't think he **plans** on being here. I think he intends to repair the Pearl and leave without ever being **here** again."

Jack's eyes glittered dangerously before he surged to his feet "Hell be **damned**, brother, if ye're going te miss me wedding." He patted Anna-Maria's shoulder "Don't ye fret, luv, Jack's had no lack o experience at calling Mallory back te the waking world. **Mallory** will give ye away or I'm not Captain Jack Sparrow." And with that he stalked off after Mallory.

We spent about thirty uncomfortable minutes with Anna-Maria and Elizabeth making small talk about weddings and watching the Pearl's crew get drunk before Jack returned with Mallory in tow. He gave Anna-Maria a sweeping bow. My God, the difference in those eyes. Odd, both sets had to be false and yet these twinkled with their own light.

"A very importunate little bird" Jack scowled at Mallory "has informed me that congratulations and condolences are in order."

"Condolences?" she asked as he kissed her hand.

"Indeed, my congratulations to my brother for securing so lovely and spirited a bride. And condolences to you that you now have the task of civilizing my reprobate brother." His eyes were gently teasing but there was no real levity in them. More than anything they just looked… weary wasn't quite the right word but it was as close as I could come.

"I thought I was a spoiled brat" she retorted.

"You most definitely **were**." He canted his head "Sparrow tells me you have a question for me…"

"Would **ye** stand in mon pere's stead and give me away?"

I was surprised when he didn't reply immediately and Anna-Maria flushed.

"You honor me above my worth" he finally said "and I fear I shall be but a poor proxy for that which is lost." I had the distinct feeling he would have preferred to say no. "I will be pleased to discharge one final duty as your godfather before I formally welcome you as a sister." For just an instant a flicker of something that wasn't weariness ghosted through his eyes and he kissed her forehead tenderly "It's been a very long time since I had a sister. Blessed be, little.."

A cry of "Sail ho!" interrupted whatever else he might have said. Mallory's eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously.

"I did **not** summon you!" he hissed toward the yacht that had just cleared the horizon behind us.

There was a pause. I glanced at my father who had a look of fierce concentration on his face.

"No I won't force you to go but you overplay your hand and I'll burn you to ash from crow's nest to keel" Mallory snapped coldly before turning back to us. "Your pardons but I have much to see to ere we arrive at Cap Francois." And before he'd even finished the sentence he was gone again. Gone quicker than the light when you blow out a candle without even the slightest lingering glimmer. I'd never seen anything more unnerving in my life and that included undead pirates and Meleri. Even Jack started in surprise.

"Never seen him go like that before" Jack mumbled. "Never seen it so quick and never without a fight, not ever." He shot a glance at my father "What did Peregrine say?"

My father shook his head "Maybe I can't hear him anymore or maybe he's just too far away. I'll try again when he's closer."

Jack sat so heavily on my pallet I wondered if his legs had gone out from under him "He couldn't have meant it. He just couldn't have. He loves Peregrine as much as I love Pearl, maybe more." He just stared at us in shock "He wouldn't burn him. He **couldn't.**" He all but vaulted off the pallet and bellowed "Furl the topsails. Prepare te heave to and lay along side!" He turned back to my father "You just get ready te have a discourse with the Peregrine."

With the Pearl's forward momentum slowed the Peregrine was alongside in minutes. My father may have spent years in court but he obviously hadn't spent much at the docks – at least not the private ones. The Peregrine was the prettiest pleasure yacht I'd ever seen. A bit ostentatious though – he had more bright work than the Dauntless and the Pearl combined and both of them dwarfed him but it stopped just short of gaudy. Actually, he really was a beautiful and delicate little ship.

Jack stepped to the rail and called to the ship "What's amiss?"

My father winced.

"I take it ye can still hear him."

"I can hear him" my father replied.

"And?"

"I'll not repeat what he had te say about ye, yer parentage, and the destination o yer immortal soul in front o me daughter" he said with quick glance at Elizabeth. "His opinion o ye is enough te make Gibbs blush. Faithless, ungrateful knave are the kindest words he has fer ye."

Jack blinked in surprise before waving a hand "Yer opinion o me is neither here nor there. We can face off man te…boat later. What matters now is Mallory."

It was a mark of just how odd a turn my life had taken that I spent the moments while my father listened to Peregrine's reply trying to figure out just how a duel between a man and a ship would be contrived.

"He says 'Too bad you couldn't be bothered to come when it did matter but at least you got him off that blighted beach and that can only help. Now the question is if there's enough left to save and any hope of doing so.'"

Jack glanced at my father who shrugged "I'm just repeating what I hear." His gaze flickered in the direction Mallory had gone "He says 'We're attracting the wrong kind of attention. If you can safely get his journal – do so. Everything you need to know is there if not he'll try to think of something. There's too much to tell this way especially if he gets caught by Rhys.'"

"He can't possibly think Mallory meant that threat."

My father met Jack's eyes "He can and he does. He says 'Be careful, Captain Jack Sparrow, be very, **very** careful.'"

Jack whirled, claimed the wheel from Gibbs, and ordered full sail. My father just leaned against the rail watching Peregrine easily pace Pearl until Elizabeth touched his shoulder. He glanced from her to me. I couldn't quite manage inviting but hopefully I didn't look too angry either. He let her lead him back over to my pallet.

She looked him up and down "We haven't had much of a chance to get acquainted." She rested a hand on her still flat stomach "And I'd like to know a little more about the family I've married into. You said you had two brothers?"

I leaned back on the pallet and listened while Elizabeth graciously drew out more about my family than I'd ever even dreamed about knowing. It would have been an idyllic way to spend an afternoon but every so often my eye would be drawn to the yacht that sailed itself alongside the Pearl and my thoughts would turn to the elf somewhere in the stern.

**OK please don't hurt me – this is where the previous 1/3 of the chapter was supposed to end before several intermittent power outages destroyed the same three pages several times. Since then I've been having difficulty carving out writing time so all I've managed to do is restore this to the original break point. I debated whether to hold off posting until I could finish chapter 11 or give you a teaser. I opted for the teaser as an experiment. So for future reference – let me know if you like this sort of thing or if you're ready to strangle me for it. I'm going on vacation 10-09 and I PROMISE even if it kills me to have the last of chapter 11 completed and posted in it's entirety BEFORE I leave.**


	15. Prodigal Daughter

**Author's notes: OK I lied – I didn't get it done in time. Ellennar hangs head in shame. This still has several scenes to go but I'm out of time and will post them some time after 10-20. **For the purposes of this chapter indicates someone (usually Elizabeth) translating French for Will. Also in my haste to post before I leave this chapter has had far less editing than is the norm so I hope it makes sense.

**Falcon Wing –** It's not what Peregrine has done but what he might do that has Mallory making death threats. And thank you for voting not to hurt me :)

**Love2rite –** Welcome! And I'm flattered you like it enough to make it a favorite!

**Istani**** – **Thank you! And I hope I didn't run your printer out of ink! And I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to look at your new chapter yet. I promise to when I get back!

**Dragon Hunter 200 –** Ah kittens – I miss having kittens. I adopted both of my current cats as adults from shelters so it's been …12 yrs since my last kitten. Sheesh I'm getting old or at least my cats are. So what color's the new kid? The journal is slated for chapters 13-15 at the moment. Chapter 12 is the promised action chapter that follows this. Reality is always a joykill – that's why I only visit it when I absolutely have to.

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 11 – Three Weddings – Tales of Determined Damsels, Distressed Pirates, and a Devious (Or possibly just Demented) Elf – The Prodigal Daughter (a)**

The morning sun peaking over Hispanolia woke me, well that and Jack bellowing a variety of orders. Actually it was undoubtedly Jack who woke me no sense blaming the innocent sun. I slipped away from Elizabeth who snuggled into the warm spot left by my departure. My wife – even now I didn't quite believe it. I kept expecting to discover that the last two years had been nothing but a dream, expecting to wake still Master Brown's unappreciated apprentice. I stretched working out the kinks of several days on that pallet. I shivered as I looked down on it. It should have been and so nearly had been my deathbed. At some point while I was unconscious the bloody bedding had been replaced but I could still imagine it there. I suddenly never wanted to see the thing again. I turned resolutely away from it turning my back on death and instead looking for the one responsible for my healing.

It didn't take long to find him. The Pearl just isn't **that** big. Or not find him as the case may be since his eyes were still staring off into nothing while his hands moved with methodical efficiency over the Pearl's rail revealing bright work I'd never known existed. I swallowed and then placed myself squarely in his way. Keeping my eyes from dropping to the deck took more courage than my fight with Barbossa's crew ever had. He stepped silently around me. I stepped back into his way again.

"Your pardon, Mr. Turner, but would you be so kind as to move aside?" the voice was neutrally polite but my guts knotted under that dead fish stare. I'm not sure what was more frightening the soulless eyes or the fact that he could still sound so normal in spite of them. My courage failed me. I moved. Elizabeth nearly frightened the life out of me as she put her arms around my waist.

"Are you certain you should be up?"

Empty eyes never flicked but he replied "Your husband is in better health than he has ever been heretofore."

Elizabeth gulped. Mallory continued his painstaking restoration of the Pearl's bright work. I tugged Elizabeth's hand pulling her away as I decided it was time to find Jack. We only made it a few steps before she stopped us. She leaned against my chest.

"It's so good to see you up and well."

Looking down at her trembling lips made my own soul ache. I didn't have a clue what to say so I kissed her. Suddenly Mallory was the furthest thing from my mind and I wondered if Jack would mind loaning us his cabin for a few hours.

The Governor cleared his throat and I released her with reluctance.

"I expected better of **you**, Mr. Turner. Lord knows there's no hope for my daughter's sense of propriety."

I flushed in spite of myself. I wanted to snap back that we were married and on a pirate ship at sea not at a bloody diner party but I held my tongue. I did smirk though when Elizabeth said it for me. The Governor's hurmph in response was nearly overwhelmed by the sound of the Pearl's anchors being released. Mallory canted his head at the sound and then joined us.

He gave Elizabeth a brief bow – green eyes reserved and distant but no longer empty "Welcome to Cap Francois milady" with a glance a column of water cupped the long boat even with the Pearl's deck.

"Mr. Gibbs ye have the quarter deck. Anna-Maria, Mallory, Mr. Cotton, the Turners, Bill, and I will be going ashore." Jack glared when the Governor joined us but didn't comment. It wasn't until I'd settled Elizabeth beside me that I realized that my father was not yet aboard. A quick glance around revealed him at the rail staring at the Peregrine. Mallory seemed to notice in the same instant I did and his brows arched in surprise. I felt a stab of fear for my father but a tendril of flame snaked around the Peregrine without ever actually making contact with him.

"Please just - don't" Mallory breathed a plea almost too quietly for me to hear even within the confines of the longboat. Jack at the rudder watched the whole thing without comment as my father settled in beside Mallory. There was no need to row as the wave boar us gently to the beach.

I'd learned that Anna-Maria was the daughter of one of the most successful pirates to ever sail the Spanish Main. I knew that he'd gone on to become both a Sieur and a Lieutenant du Roi but I was still surprised to find myself standing in front of a châteaux ever inch as grand as the Governor of Jamaica's mansion. My shoulders tensed just walking into the foyer as a liveried servant ushered us in. I doubt that I'll ever truly feel like anything but an interloper in these great houses no matter how many times Elizabeth tells me I have nothing to be ashamed of. Fortunately for me most of the planters are so strapped for cash and so desperate to get back to England that most of them are living in wattle and daub cottages that are only a couple of steps up from the slaves' huts.

"Marissa, darling!" I ducked in self-defense as Jack threw his arms wide while the beautiful quadroon on the stairs crossed her arms and glared at him. In spite of her African heritage there was no doubt this was the lady of the house. I could see Elizabeth giving the pale blue silk dress an appreciative look.

"Well, well, well if it isn't Jack Sparrow" she said icily as she took a few steps down the sweeping stairs. "It's been a **long** time since ye darkened this doorway."

"Captain, Rissa, **Cap-tain** Jack Sparrow" Jack objected while Marissa whirled to look out the great windows at the cove below. For just an instant a wide, delighted smile broke across her face "You got her **back**!"

"Indeed I did."

"Ye shouldn't have lost her in the first place" Marissa chided but that grin was tugging at her lips.

"Let me introduce ye te a pair o me dear friends who were instrumental te rescuing me Pearl, Marissa Baldran"

"Gaspar" she flashed a ring at him "C'est Marissa Gaspar these days."

"**Gerome******" Jack blinked and rolled his eyes "Well, Marissa **Gaspar** allow me te present William and Elizabeth Turner, lately of Port Royal."

Marissa's brows shot upward and she gave Elizabeth a speculative glance. It's amazing how far afield the story of a blacksmith marrying a Governor's daughter can spread. One would think that Aztec curses and undead pirates sailing magic ships **would** be far more interesting but apparently not. Marissa gave the Governor a wary look.

"Only ye, Captain Jack Sparrow would bring the **English** Governor o Jamaica te a **French** colony in the midst o a war." She set her fine boned hands on her hips "I'll see te it that the slaves keep their mouths shut and I don't intend te be inhospitable Governor Swann but the sooner yer business is accomplished and yer away the better."

Jack shot the Governor a less than happy glance and snapped "His being here wasn't me idea and if the fool gets himself captured it's his own bloody fault."

The Governor stepped forward and begged Marissa's pardon for any inconvenience. It was perfectly proper and polite but next to Mallory's gallantry it seemed shabby and poorly done. Speaking of Mallory I was a bit surprised to realize that he'd hung back with Anna-Maria. Her reluctance I could understand, his confused me. Just as Marissa turned her attention back to Jack a young voice crowed an ecstatic "M'ory" from above and a small body launched itself at us from the balcony. Elizabeth stifled a cry. Mallory was a blur as he shot forward and caught the little boy.

"Lars Gaspar" Mallory barked sternly as the panicked face of what could only be the little mustee's nurse appeared at the rail "Tu ne fait"

Don't **ever** do that again. Do you understand? Elizabeth whispered a translation of Mallory's French into my ear.

The blue eyes in the pale brown face welled with tears and he wrapped little arms around Mallory's neck "Mais vous"

But you've been gone **forever** Elizabeth smiled a little at the child's pouty chiding while still whispering a translation for me. Her warm breath tickling against my ear had me thinking **extremely** inappropriate thoughts. The Governor would be scandalized. And you always catch me. 

"Lars" Mallory growled firmly while Marissa barked furiously "Nathalie!"

The poor young slave shook the whole way down the stairs but then if I'd been on the receiving end of the glares both Mallory and Marissa had leveled at her I'd have headed for the hills.

Lars wrapped his arms more firmly around Mallory.

I want to stay with M'ory. Elizabeth whispered but I really didn't need that one translated.

Nathalie take him back to the nursery Marissa barked.

M'ory come with me? Gilly's crawling now. The little boy scowled at Mallory You said little brothers were fun. 

They are. He just has some more growing to do first. Go with Nathalie 

His nurse gathered him up.

Keep a better watch over your charges there was a promise of death in Mallory's green eyes as the nurse fled.

I told you not to move the nursery upstairs he snapped at Marissa.

You're not my father she snarled back.

Mallory's reply was a withering look. When the silence stretched painfully long he said in an ominously quiet tone It is a sad state of affairs indeed when a member of **my house** has more concern for children than their own mother. 

You could see the flush even though she was a quadroon. She started to drop her eyes in shame but her jaw tightened You're a bold one to talk. Mother's been beside herself about you. How dare you leave a dying woman to worry like that? 

Mallory canted his head I made no promise to return nor have I **ever** set a time upon my comings and goings. 

Nor have you ever failed to appear when needed much less when called was Marissa's retort. I had the distinct impression that Marie hadn't been the only one worried about Mallory. And you're a damn coward to come now that's she's in a coma. So don't Marissa's tirade against Mallory came to a sudden halt as Anna-Maria pushed her way to the front.

Marissa's glance then turned to Jack "So that's yer game, Sparrow. Well, it won't work. It's mine."

"Captain, Rissa, Captain and what's me game?"

"The house, the plantation, the **inheritance** – **mine.** Ye'll not come waltzing in here ten years later and claim so much as a single cane!"

Anna-Maria gaped for a moment "Ye think I'm here for the bloody **house?** I don't give a damn about the house and I hate the bloody **plantation**!"__

"Ye expect me te believe that after ten years without so much as a letter ye just happened te show up here on the very day mes mere slipped inte a coma? What kind o fool do ye take me for, sister?" Marissa made sister sound like the worse insult she could fathom.

"The worst kind" Anna-Maria snapped back as she started up the stairs only to be blocked by Marissa.

"No, it's not that easy. Ye don't get te just walk back in here. Not after what ye did te our parents. Ye've been dead in this house for years." Marissa reinforced her words with a shove that nearly sent Anna-Maria tumbling down the stairs. Anna-Maria's hand dropped to the hilt of her cutlass. Mallory moved between the sisters and backed Marissa up a step.

"She may be dead to you, Marissa, but she was never dead to your parents" he said with that native authority he could wield so compellingly when he chose. Marissa's voice trembled when she replied "She killed mes pere."

"Your father died of heart failure, Marissa" he countered gently as he turned her just a bit so Anna-Maria had a straight shot up the stairs behind them.

"And who broke his heart?! I buried me sister the day I buried me pere."

"If that is your wish, Marissa, then so be it but I brought her here for Marie. And while normally I would be quite content to allow the two of you fight this out on your own if you try to stop her now you will face **me**."

Marissa blanched. If looks could kill the whole lot of us died. Mallory offered Anna-Maria his arm and the two of them led the way to what could only be the master suite. Anna-Maria stopped stock still on the threshold.

"Mere" I never thought I'd live to hear Anna-Maria's voice crack.

The frail form sunk in the bedclothes made no reply. Jack looked like someone had kicked him in the gut. Anna-Maria cradled one shriveled hand "Please Mere?"

"She won't wake" Marissa snapped from the doorway "and she's better off. All the opium in the world couldn't deaden the pain anymore."

She stepped around to kneel opposite Anna-Maria. For first time I felt something other than contempt for her. If anyone should understand the pain and anger of watching a parent fail slowly and in agony while wondering where the other person who should be there too was it should have been me. Marissa might or might not be the greedy harridan she'd appeared on the stair but I had not doubt now that she loved her mother. Anna-Maria glanced up as Mallory leaned past her and laid the back of his hand against Marie's wasted cheek. I felt Elizabeth stiffen against me as the reason for De Griff and Marie's forced marriage became painfully clear. He'd been in a rush to get her off the Pearl because he'd been falling for her himself. I tensed remembering Jack's wild description of white hounds with glowing, blood red eyes. What must it be like to know that should you yield to temptation you give your lover to the Hunt? Could a vow to another man remove that temptation? I tightened my hands around Elizabeth's shoulders while Mallory breathed something in El'lan. That honorable streak revealed itself at the oddest times. Clearly he'd remained a close friend of the family. Could I have done it? If Elizabeth had married Norrington could I have been a **godfather** to their child? My opinion of him went up several notches – I could **NOT** have done it. Norrington could have. Maybe that makes him a better man than me. Or maybe that merely proves that he'd never loved Elizabeth as deeply as I did.

Marie's eyes fluttered open. Now I knew where Lars Gasper came by his. The joy and relief as she woke to Mallory above her was just as clear in those blue orbs as his affection.

"So, ye are still among the living" she croaked as she tried to reach up for him with the hand Marissa had been holding but lacked the strength. Marissa passed him a glass and he replied as he helped her drink.

"I just seem to keep right on breathing, will or nil, terrible habit that I haven't managed to shake yet."

"Ye shouldn't jest so" she chided but I could feel icy fingers run up my spine because it hadn't sounded at all like a jest.

"Ma mere" Anna-Maria interrupted and Marie noticed her for the first time. Anna-Maria leaned forward and gathered the wasted form to her and they both wept. As I looked uneasily away from them I noticed the seething anger in Marissa's eyes. It couldn't be easy to watch. Marissa had clearly been here through thick and thin while Anna-Maria sauntered in at the last minute. Marie slumped back into the pillows gasping and spent but she smiled at the ring on Anna-Maria's finger. Her blue eyes searched the room and rested on Jack.

"So one of ye finally caught the Sparrow, did ye?"

"Ah, me wings aren't clipped just yet" Jack interjected "as I'm certain Anna was hoping ye'd be present for the procedure."

If Marissa had been angry before with that statement resentment and jealousy flared to an inferno. Jack, Marie, and Anna-Maria appeared oblivious but Mallory's green eyes certainly sharpened. His eyes returned to Marie but I swear I could see an ear cocked toward Marissa. They shared a glance and Mallory gave her a sweeping bow that ended with him on one knee at her bedside.

"I am your not-so-humble and rarely obedient servant, Madam."

There was a new strength in her voice when she responded "Not-so-humble and rarely obedient - truer words have never passed yer lips Captain Mallory."

She frowned with concern when he didn't bother to reply, sat up, and rose while Marissa gaped in slack jawed shock. Her mother tsked and closed her mouth with a spider thin finger tip "Be a dear and ask Cicily to fetch my blue gown."

Marissa rose numbly and sputtered "But ye've not had the strength te rise fer weeks."

Anna-Maria shot Mallory an angry look "Ye said there was nothing ye could do fer Mama but" she broke off and glanced at her mother.

"Except kill me quicker" Marie finished calmly "Mallory made the situation quite clear Noel de '08. How long?"

Mallory had yet to rise and he did not even look up when he replied. "You would have lingered another six days in the coma, provided someone gave you broth regularly. You might have had a brief moment of lucidity ere the end but I doubt it." He finally rose but I noted that he used the hand nearest the bed for extra leverage "One day, with your old strength and without pain is all I can give you." He sighed a little before meeting her eyes "If we continue you will never see another dawn." He dropped his head again "You may not even last until midnight."

She put her hands on her hips with an expression that reminded me of Marissa "Only you could hand someone a miracle and make it sound like dirty rags."

He shook his head "Madam, I am **killing** you."

She stepped forward and he sidled back. Her eyes narrowed "Marissa – fetch Cicily and send someone down to let Adola know she's to provide breakfast for… eleven within the hour." The face and form might have been ravaged by both time and illness but the blue eyes were as sharp as Mallory's own "And ye" she poked a blue veined finger at him and picked up a silver tipped cane from beside the bed "stop being bloody ridiculous – the disease is killing me." She turned to Jack and Anna-Maria "It's short notice but I'm certain the resident miracle worker can pull off a suitably splendid ceremony this evening."

Jack, I decided, was getting off easy. No hours, and hours, and **hours** of Elizabeth (or I should say Anna-Maria) going on and on about colors, flowers, menus, seating arrangements, pastors, readings, vows, dresses, music, and all that other stuff which had me wanting to – God it gives me a headache just remembering it. Weddings give me nightmares. Thank God I never have to be anything but a guest ever again.

Mallory gave the sun a quick glance and then sketched a bow, "You will, of course, pardon me Madam if I miss breakfast then so that"

"Absolutely **not**" she snapped punctuating the point by slamming the cane she didn't seem to need at the moment against the floor hard enough that I was surprised it didn't go through it. I stifled a grin as Mallory conqueror of nations and scourge of the seas flinched apparently no match for a frail old woman in her nightgown. "Twenty-five years I've known ye Captain Mallory and I ken the difference betwixt ye **needing** te go and ye trying te bow out." She smiled revealing perfect white teeth. Illness must have aged her before her time. "And I know from experience just how little time ye need te arrange things. Adola is very fond o ye and she's undoubtedly already preparing things te tempt that finicky apatite o yers. Now off with ye and let an old hag get ready te face the world."

Green eyes blazed "Were she here Pschye herself would hang her head in shame and bow before your glory."

Marie gave him an incredulous look "Ye always were a gallant liar."

"While, I confess, the truth rarely graces my lips I have spoken no lies this day. The lilies of the valley are not as fair as thee."

Marie's reply was to hand him a set of spectacles from the desk. He arched a brow at her questioningly.

"Age may not have bent yer body but it's clearly blurred yer vision. Ye've greater need o them than I have. I was comely enough twenty years ago but in case it's slipped ye - I've gotten old Captain."

He passed her back the glasses "There's nothing amiss with my eyes. To me, fair friend, thou canst never be old, for as you were when first your eye I eye'd such is your beauty still."

"Sonnet 104 and it's such seems not such is" Jack stopped abruptly when Elizabeth elbowed him hard enough to double him and followed it with a kick to the shin. He blinked at her in wounded innocence while rubbing his leg. "He's the one miss quoting Shakespeare" he defended in an aggrieved tone.

"Will would not mind" Mallory replied.

Marie's brows went up "Ye knew William Shakespeare?"

"Gentle Will" Mallory closed his eyes for a moment. Well, now I finally knew who'd gotten my name and left me as the Whelp. "A good and loyal friend, long gone but **never** forgotten" there was a fierce defensiveness to that never.

I wondered who this Will Shakespeare fellow had been other than obviously some sort of author. The cane cracked down again

"Captain Mallory's failing sight notwithstanding all o ye out so I can dress lest I send ye all screaming in terror at me 'unfading beauty'. " She caught Anna-Maria's hand "Stay."

Marissa met us on the stair looking like she'd just spent the last three weeks sucking on green lemons. After glaring at the door she forced a more pleasant expression as she laced her arm around Jack's and pulled him a few steps up. The discussion was too low for the rest of us to hear but it ended with her slapping him across the face and him glaring daggers at her as she flounced past us. Only to be caught and swung against the wall by Mallory.

"I think that will be more than enough" he purred deep in his throat. "If you want to get into a fist fight with Anna-Maria tomorrow across the bloody casket that's your business but your mother has only one day left and you will be well behaved and civil."

"Or what?" she shot back chin up.

"Your father had felt the kiss of the whip often enough that he didn't use it, not on his men, nor his slaves, nor his household. I note that you've seen fit to rectify his lapse on the backs of his slaves. One more step out of line and I'll treat you to the same lesson you've been so free with of late."

"You wouldn't dare. My people would"

"Do absolutely nothing" he retorted voice silky smooth "except privately rejoice that you're finally reaping what you've sown."

Jack muttered a scripture reference but I ignored him.

"A word in your ear, dear, Machiavelli may or may not be correct in saying that it is better for a prince to be feared than loved one thing a prince can never afford to be is weak. For the sake of your father these people were ready to love you in spite of their enslavement. You have foolishly squandered that in a vain attempt to **appear** strong. Neither **you** nor Gerome in spite of your fondness for chains and floggings have the wherewithal to intimidate seventy people. No, it is the threat of the French garrison that keeps them in check. A garrison that could be called away at any time and then where will you be? At the mercy of those who would have loved you – **if** you had been wiser. Your father knew very well the difference between punishment and discipline between justice and terror. It's a pity you did not see fit to learn from his example."

"But ye'd rescue us. Ye always rescue us."

"And that is another bit of wisdom you clearly have yet to learn. Your parents appreciated my help but they never, ever took for granted. Do not keep living your life with the expectation that someone will always be there to bail you out of your messes. Grow up little girl before your stupidity gets you and your children killed."

She moved to slap him but he caught her hand and shoved her away "That was **not** a wise move. Try again and do keep in mind what the cat can do to your back." Her hands curled into fists at her sides but she turned mutely and sailed up the stairs.

"That is a very angry young woman" Jack observed as he came alongside Mallory.

"And now she is primarily angry at me instead of you and Anna-Maria. Keep an ear on her. I've frightened her a bit and gotten her thinking but she will eventually make trouble. She's intelligent, wily, devious, and utterly spoiled. I suggest you and Anna-Maria settle whatever legal questions there are as quickly as possible before she has an opportunity to do something fatally foolish." Mallory was abruptly lifted off his feet and bear-hugged by the ugliest human being I have ever laid my eyes on. He was wider than he was tall though to be honest I couldn't tell if it was fat or muscle, dark as a moonless night with wooly white hair and so many wrinkles that the wrinkles had wrinkles. Either way neither Jack nor Mallory seemed in any way surprised or dismayed by this turn of events. Mallory merely sighed and allowed himself to be carried off like booty to the dining room where he was deposited into a chair and thoroughly scolded in something that was not French. It wasn't until she crossed her arms at the end of the tirade that I realized he was a … she.

"That's interesting" Jack muttered to me "According te Adola this is **not** the first time me brother has shown up here thin as a ghost."

Adola the cook was glowering thunderously at Mallory who took a sip from the goblet in front of him then gestured grandly at Jack and said something in gibberish. Good God, I'd thought she was scary when she was angry. She lumbered over to Jack and from the color his face turned hugged the breath right out of him. Jack sagged into a chair gasping when she released him. Mallory took another sip from his glass and then began an animated discussion with Adola. He rose taking the goblet with him and followed Adola. Jack was still trying to remember how to breath when Marie strode in flanked be Anna-Maria, Marissa, and a slave that I assumed was Cicily.

"Where is he?" she snapped at Jack.

Jack waved and then choked out "Adola – kitchens – reception."

Marie frowned at his untouched plate. "Typical" she settled into a chair across from Jack. Another slave hurried to pour drinks (pineapple juice my nose informed me.) and we settled around the table. After several bites she gave Jack a searching look "So when did you start talking te the Captain again?"

I could see Jack swallow back an insistence that _he_ was the Captain "Just a few days ago."

"And how does he strike ye?"

This time Jack played with his eggs "I can't say as I'm pleased with me brother's outlook at the moment."

"Brother?! So ye finally got him te talk. Twenty-five years I've known him and not one word has he ever spoken about his past. While I **am** glad - I don't think it's a good sign." She wiped thin, pale lips delicately. "There is much to be done before tonight. Anna, Marissa, Cicily." She brushed Jack's shoulder "Keep an eye on him. He isn't half as heartless as he pretends to be."

My father was having a tough time not laughing. Jack nervous was a rare sight indeed. Captain Jack Sparrow nervous enough to pace was certainly a sight I would not soon forget. Mallory seemed to agree since he paused in the doorway to watch until Jack happened to notice him.

"Where have ye been?" the relief in Jack's face was palpable. My father blanched as he suddenly realized that Jack's pacing wasn't prewedding jitters – it was worry for Mallory. I hadn't even considered the implications of him giving all of us the slip.

Mallory canted his head looking slightly confused by Jack's vehemence and then said "The church is ready, the flowers arranged, Adola has the reception dinner well in hand, the musicians are arriving, the guests have been invited, the bride is well on her way to being ready which just leaves getting the groom and his men dressed." He handed my father and I outfits before laying Jack's out.

"Do ye really think those are me colors?"

"You'll look superb. Trust me."

"I thought ye said I wasn't te do that?"

"On fashion, believe me, you can trust me. You **should** trust me, you really, really should. Now about those beads."

Jack backed up glared. Mallory rolled his eyes and pulled needle and thread. He began tucking and tacking with well practiced ease.

"Sewing never struck me as skill a prince would cultivate" Jack observed.

"No but it's one every princess must master."

Jack gave him an odd look "Would ye care te elaborate on that?"

"Bess and I were terribly competitive with each other back at Hatfield. She was being taught to sew and there was no way I wasn't going to be better at it, which I am."

A little hand reached up and tugged on his "M'ory."

Mallory glanced toward the doorway where Nathalie stood with a toddler on her hip.

Elizabeth leaned over and whispered a translation I'm sorry but he's been asking for you all day 

M'ory didn't come see me Mallory tied off the seam he was working on and then picked up the boy.

I'm sorry but I've been very busy today 

The little boy looked carefully at Mallory and then said M'ory very sad 

Mallory started to give a glib answer and then just nodded.

Because grandma's dying? 

That too 

Lars' little brow furrowed before he handed Mallory something This'll help. You can meet Gilly later. It'll be alright He patted Mallory on the head and frowned What's in your hair? 

Nothing important. Promise me you'll listen to Miss Nathalie? 

He nodded M'ory come back and play with me when you're happy again? 

Maybe Mallory allowed before handing the boy back to his nurse and watching them leave.

"What'd he give ye?" Jack asked.

"A cookie" Mallory replied distractedly.

"Ah" the Governor said with a smile "to be back in that golden time when a cookie could fix all that was wrong with the world."

Mallory canted his head and looked at the Governor like he was speaking an utterly unintelligible language before passing him the cookie "Have a bit of nostalgia then."

"You aren't really going to wear that dirty old thing around your head are you?" Elizabeth asked giving Jack's ever present scarf a distasteful look.

Jack shot Mallory a panicky look.

"What's the matter Captain Jack Sparrow?" Marissa sneered from the doorway. Pity her attitude spoiled her looks. "Don't want yer friends te know yer a pointy-eared freak?" She stalked into the room with an unpleasant smile plastered across her face. "It's true, ye know, I've seen'em."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Mallory inquired his voice like iron. She fled.

"Do you really have Ellyllon ears?" Elizabeth asked sounding absolutely charmed.

Jack yanked the red scarf off and looked at Elizabeth as if daring her to say anything. You could just see the tips poking up between the dreadlocks. Elizabeth moved a dreadlock aside and sighed.

"I wish I had point-ears."

"No ye bloody don't" Jack snapped back.

"Can ye move'em like Mr. Mallory can?" my father asked.

Jack turned and glared at Mallory "Ye might have told me."

Mallory shrugged "It would have led to questions I had no intention of answering." He wrapped a pristine sash around Jack's head and then stepped back to survey the effect. I had to admit even with the dreadlocks, beads, and braided beard Jack still looked very, very good. "Now, gentlemen and lady, Captain Jack Sparrow has an appointment to keep. Shall we?"

"Aren't ye going te change?" Mallory looked like a drab crow now compared to the rest of us.

And with a flick of the wrist he outshone everyone but Jack and, of course, Elizabeth who could outshine the sun in rags.

"Being a Shadow of Master has it's uses. I do have limits, you know. There was no time to prepare something for myself."

The ceremony went off without a hitch. I volunteered to give the speech since I was afraid my father was going to faint at the suggestion he do it. Since the Governor was deep in conversation with some plantation owner I played with Elizabeth's neck ever so subtly. I pulled back in surprise when she shrugged me off. She gave my hand a quick squeeze and then nodded toward Mallory and Marie. It was hard to pick out the words over the party.

"I married him to spite ye. Ye know I half expected ye te stop the wedding. I wanted ye te"

"Madam" Mallory began to protest but she cut him off.

"No, not this time. There's not much sand left in me hourglass, now is there Captain Mallory? Ye've given me final day te set me affairs in order and that includes ye. Ye've never let me say it, ye knave. I love ye. And damn ye for making so smart a match for me as Lorencillo. A good man, a fine man, a man I loved far more than I ever loved that bastard Jean. But I never stopped dreaming o green eyes." Unwavering blue eyes glared a challenge at him.

"Marie what do you want from me?" I knew what she wanted. I was willing to bet Mallory knew too.

"Damn ye" she snapped and slapped him. "Me stalwart knight who never failed te show up just when I needed him. Ye saved me from becoming a whore, gave me te a man I could love, rescued me daughters and I from the Spanish"

"Sh-sh not so loud they still think it was Sparrow."

"Aye, and have been fighting like tom cats over which o them was going te marry him ever since. No thanks te ye."

"He did help."

Marie snorted clearly not impressed with Jack's 'help' "Then ye rebuilt this place. How ye managed the rescue and the restoration without bruising Lorencillo's pride was a miracle all on its own. Then ye handled everything when Lorencillo died. How do ye do it? Not a message sent. Not a letter shared and yet ye always know. If ye feel nothing then why did ye do it?"

Mallory played with the glass in front of him before replying "I can't give you want, Madam."

"I'm not asking ye te bloody marry me" she retorted "and I have a bloody name. Use it."

He rose, bowed, kissed her hand and paused. Actions speak louder than words – so why do women insist on making us say it? On the other hand if words don't matter why **are** we so reluctant to say it?

"Marie, you know not what you ask. I'm sorry and farewell." He whirled and all but vanished. Jack froze on the dance floor, nearly dropping Anna-Maria, and immediately turned searching for him. He caught my eye. I nodded and grabbed Elizabeth's hand. My father joined us in the hallway and somewhat distracted Jack continued his dance behind us.

"How could that, that, wretch do that to her?" The wretch in question was nowhere in sight. I politely ignored Elizabeth muttering several words her father would never believe she knew. Since my father seemed to have decided to search downstairs I pulled Elizabeth up. I paused a moment and wondered if I should leave Elizabeth behind given that she'd moved on to saying some truly nasty things. A quick search of the upstairs rooms revealed nothing I was just about to take the search outside when Mallory's voice stopped us.

"Is there any particular reason I should be aware of that Sparrow doesn't want to let me out of his sight?"

We turned as one and spotted him in a window seat behind us. I wondered whether we had missed him because of magic or because the alcove was more than half-hidden. I was saved from having to answer that question by Elizabeth's slap. He offered her the other cheek in response.

"You get back down there you piece of shit and tell that woman the truth! How could you do that?"

"Because regardless of what I want, milady, it is too dangerous. I am the last surviving heir to the throne of Avalon. I do not have the **right**to take my own life."

Elizabeth stopped cold "What are you saying?"

"Some words like names have power. Any other time it wouldn't matter but right now I stand on the edge of the proverbial precipice. If I hadn't gagged Peregrine he'd be shrieking loud enough to wake the dead over this." He took a sip from the glass he'd taken with him. "I've linked myself to Marie at a much deeper level than I did with your husband. Marie draws her strength from me but unlike Cennan where it was a simple matter the disease also draws on me. I am fighting the disease and feeding it simultaneously. I have set myself against myself, backlash is inevitable. For now the balance remains on Marie's side. Very soon that will change, a breaking point will come and then there will be a massive backlash. It will kill Marie instantly. At best I will spend tomorrow unconscious. It is better end for her than lingering in pain for another five days at least. We will still be linked when the time comes and I will hang between life and death. If I had said those words to her linked as we are we would become cydio and I would follow her into death. I did it once before and survived. I would not survive it again." He canted his head "I was taught to lie when I was taught to speak. Even if I had no affection for Marie at all under any other circumstances I'd tell a dying woman anything she wanted to hear if it would ease her passing."

"I'm sorry" she breathed.

"So am I. Doesn't change a damn thing in the end." He set the empty glass down "If I had wanted company I would have remained downstairs."

She watched him for a few moments "Sometimes what we want isn't what we need."

He started to argue then just seem to give up and settled for staring out the window. Elizabeth moved to the rail to watch the reception below.

"I bet there are a lot of single people down there just waiting for someone to introduce them to the right someone."

"They'll just have to muddle through without me" he finally replied.

"Can you do love charms?"

This time his head snapped around and he glared at her "That's cheating and they don't last long anyway. Unless there was already a good basis for the relationship the couple would be miserable within months."

"So you can."

"Me doing love charms is a bit like sending in the Dauntless in pursuit of a rowboat – extreme overkill."

"So you've never used one?"

"Just once when I **wanted** the resulting marriage to fail but that was so long ago it seems another lifetime" he turned back to the window ignoring us.

We spent several minutes in awkward silence before Elizabeth nodded to Jack.

"I ask again, why is a man who has barely thought of me in thirteen years so frantic to keep me in sight?"

"You think Jack's frantic?" Elizabeth scoffed.

"I **know** he is" Mallory retorted "He nearly dumped Anna-Maria when I walked out, he was pacing like a mad man when I returned with his outfit for the wedding."

Elizabeth tossed her head "Pre-wedding jitters."

"There are many things that would drive my brother to distraction should fate put him on the throne of England but being the center of attention is **not** one of them. In fact Captain Jack Sparrow would likely find people hanging on his every word the **only** redeeming feature of the crown. There's nothing my brother loves more than an audience. It wasn't nerves that had him wound up earlier and he never slips in front of a crowd." He crossed he arms over his chest and canted his head at us. "Would you like to try again?"

Elizabeth shrugged "Jack plays things close to the chest."

He turned those intent green eyes on me "Cennan?"

"About Mr. Bolger" I began nervously.

A flicker of amusement that faded swiftly "Did you know, milady, that he had such a fetish for asses when you wed him?"

"Mallory Adfyw just what are you implying about my husband?"

He was a portrait of wounded innocence "Moi? Nothing, nothing at all."

"There's something I" I paused not wanting to ask this question but desperate to turn the conversation "How many?"

"How many people did you kill in Port Royal when you were teaching me?"

"None" he replied looking slightly confused and then affronted "You think I killed Sir Skeffington and then **_left his body at the bottom of the stairs?!_** Honestly, Cennan, I assure you, when **I** commit a murder I do a far better job of covering it up. The only time I ever played the terribly tired 'body mysteriously found at the foot of the stairs' gambit is the one time I **_wanted_** the death to be questioned."

I couldn't decided which worried me more, that there was an unknown murderer in Port Royal or that Mallory didn't care one whit that I'd accused him of murder only of, in his opinion, bungling it. At least we were on a different topic and since I'd already put my foot in my mouth there was no sense in retreating now.

"So you never spoke to Sir Skeffington that night?"

"There didn't seem to be much point. Ghosts are terribly dreary conversationalists. They never actually answer **you**. Intolerably frustrating and horribly rude but what can you expect of the dead? Besides I was much too busy trying to save his son's life."

"Jonathan?" Elizabeth asked suddenly very intent. I squashed the flash of jealousy and instead smirked at the thought of how mortified her father would be if he heard her using Sir Skeffington (the younger)'s Christian name. Jonathan Skeffington was a consummate gentleman, respectable planter, and the brother of one of the few 'respectable' women who was still willing to speak to Elizabeth after our 'scandalous' marriage. "What happened to Jonathan?"

"His father and a dried bull prick. I confess that when I saw the sketches I was considering killing him when I heard about the bull pricks his fate was sealed. I assume that he didn't intend to rupture his son's spleen and cause massive internal bleeding but one never knows."

Elizabeth licked her lips clearly caught between curiosity and a dread. Curiosity won.

"What are you talking about?"

"It is illegal to torture certain individuals under English law. One simply doesn't put a Duke on the rack, at least not officially. So the ever resourceful Sir Skeffington of the Tower made the unhappy discovery that you can beat a man quite literally to death with a dried bull prick and **if** you know what you're doing not leave a single bruise. Unfortunately for Jonathan Skeffington I don't think his father read those treatises as thoroughly as he should have. There is, of course, nothing illegal about a man beating his wife and children but your father has made his opinion on such matters well known. Sir Skeffington was well aware that if it became known that he was cruel to his wife and children that key papers would be held up indefinitely hence his interest in alternate methods." Mallory shrugged "Pity I wasn't there sooner I might have spared all of them. I certainly never would have lost any sleep over killing the elder Skeffington."

"You killed Amy Robsart!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Who?" I asked utterly lost.

"Eyes' first wife was found on September 8, 1559 sprawled, rather artistically if I must say so myself, at the base of the stairs. All of the servants were at the local fair. The house was empty. Did she stumble and fall to her death or was she murdered? It is a question that is **still** being argued. There was a time when the fate of a nation hung on the mystery of Amy Robsart's life and death. It was a brilliant bit of work. Something any courtier would be proud of. One of the oddest murders I ever committed. The only time I ever had small beer and scones with the victim and discussed the details of the murder, very opinionated young woman, pity really."

"Was Elizabeth really going to marry Robert Dudley?"

"Bess came within a hair's breath of sacrificing her throne for love."

Typical, Mallory reveals that one of the Skeffington's murdered Sir Skeffington and Elizabeth is thinking about a murder committed over one hundred and fifty years ago.

"And you stopped her" Elizabeth snapped jaw clenching.

"Yes, I did. One life in exchange for the thousands that would have died in the civil war that would have resulted if Bess had followed her heart. It's not all glitter and flowery speech, milady, people live and die on the whim of the court. Amy Robsart knew she was dying and knew what would happen if she died quietly in her bed."

Elizabeth started to retort but Mallory flashed past us in a blur of movement. There was a shriek from the hall below just before Mallory dove over the rail. The two of us flew to the rail just in time to see Mallory snatch something out of the air and land fairly hard on a table. The bundle in his arm let out an ungodly wail and Marissa snatched little Gilly out of his hands, frantic.

"Merci, merci. I'll move the nursery back downstairs" Marissa was rambling but Mallory ignored her. A gust of wind swept past Elizabeth and I. It whistled through the rooms while Mallory went ominously still. Then he tore out the front door. Jack set off promptly in pursuit. I bolted down the stairs with Elizabeth on my heels.

Mallory was already out of sight again. How did he move so fast? Jack ripped the sash off his head and proved that he was capable of moving those pointy ears. He paused, listening and then led us down toward the slave huts. I wished suddenly that Elizabeth had stayed behind and that I was armed with more than just my sword. There was something in the air that I didn't like at all.

**Historical Note: **The death of Amy Robsart is **still **being argued about. Basically it comes down to three possibilities 1.) Amy Robsart was never ill. Queen Elizabeth and Amy's husband Robert Dudley lied about her illness so that when they murdered her everyone would assume it was an accident and they could marry. If this was their plan it backfired horribly. 2.) Amy Robsart was in fact terminally ill. Robert Dudley's enemies murdered her to cause a scandal and thus ensure that he would never marry Elizabeth and become King of England. If this is the case it worked beautifully. 3.) Amy Robsart was terminally ill and just tripped and fell down the bloody stairs. At any rate Amy's death proves that paranoia and conspiracy theories are **nothing** new.


	16. Reaping the Whirlwind 1

**Author's notes: ****Eliza****beth**** fans – please don't kill me!** Her attitude is completely in keeping with her time and social status. She may (I admit) be a little OOC since we've firmly established she doesn't think like a typical an 18th century woman and I apologize for that.

In the interests of posting SOMETHING I've split this last bit of 11 into two parts (It's really, really bad when the subchapters have subchapters!!)

**Littlebird**Please see my REALLY long note at the bottom

**Cal**Thank you for the praise! I'm not even sure where to begin responding. So, no, my name most definitely isn't Tolkien or I'd be riding his coat tails to get published. I did read the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings for the first time at seven and many times since so maybe a little of the 'style' rubbed off. As to more of Anna's background and some Anna flashbacks – I make no promises either way. I've actually got a banner size print out of "If it doesn't advance plot or character it's out!" hanging above my computer. The scenes exist in outline and in my head but had been pretty much pushed onto the 'it'd be nice but if I included everything in my outline of Mallory's life I'll still be writing this 10 years from now' list. Since they've actually been requested I'll take another look at them and see if I can find a way for them to fit the 'must advance plot or character' prerequisite. (Yes, I know they advance Anna's character but the story is about the Blood of Avalon and what it means for the three people (and apparently one ghost now – why let a little thing like **death** interfere with a family feud?) who carry it.) But don't despair there's definitely more adult Anna w/ Jack.

**Rose of ****England**Thank you!

**Falcon Wing: **Couldn't resist mate!

**Istani**A whole new printer – sheesh I'd didn't think I was that verbose.

**Dragon Hunter:** Thank you. I didn't **plan **to leave you hanging but – insert evil grin. There will be more on Shakespeare in Reaping the Whirlwind II and in the journal since he was actually a fairly important person in Mallory's life. I have myself on a strict 2 cat limit (otherwise I'd have a whole houseful!)

**xImmortalx**** –** Nice to know you're still out there! I'm not sure how long Chapter 12 will be since it's mostly action but there will be **no** breaks in it. I'll try to make sure 13 is in manageable sized chunks.

**ErinRua** Welcome to my obsession and thank you! My muse is actually far too chatty (as the length of this story shows).

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 11: part 5 – Reaping the Whirlwind? part 1**

"Hold" Mallory ordered quietly. Elizabeth started as he appeared out of the inky shadows. He watched one of the huts with a single minded intensity.

"What is it?" Elizabeth whispered with that edge I'd come to dread.

"Not a drop of Ellyllon blood in those veins is there, milady?" he observed quietly face still swallowed in darkness "And you Sparrow, what do you sense?"

"Power" Jack replied without even a trace of his usual slur "but different than yours?" He shot the silhouette a questioning glance more unsure of himself than I'd ever seen him.

"No, not like mine. Most of those tortured and burned as witches are nothing of the sort. Of the handful that do have real power most have a trace of Ellyllon blood. Rarest of all are those who derive their power from some other source. Apparently Marissa has bought herself a real ju-ju priest. The question is – why is he here?"

Elizabeth glanced at Mallory's outline incredulously "He's her slave."

Mallory took as step forward into the moonlight "Marissa Gaspar could no more hold **me** in slavery than a man capable of raising **that** kind of power. So what **does** he want?"

"So we just stand here?" Elizabeth set her hands on her hips and gave Mallory a challenging glance of her own.

"Carefully, milady, do not breech the circle" was his measured reply. All three of us looked down. I noticed the circle of what looked like salt for the first time.

"A circle of protection" Mallory supplied "He's very focused on what he's doing. As long as we don't cross it I very much doubt he'll notice us. Young, inexperienced, but powerful" he muttered to himself.

"And you intend to just watch?"

"I've never really been chary about overextending myself, milady, but tangling with a ju-ju priest of **unknown** power and intentions while the bulk of my own strength is diverted elsewhere seems…ill advised unless absolutely necessary. If it becomes necessary I'd like to have as much information as I can. Forewarned is forearmed and all that" he said sarcastically.

"Somehow" Jack observed in his usual slur "I doubt we're going te be able te stay out o it. And I think we can both guess at his intentions." He glanced away from the hut and at Mallory "Unless ye plan te leave the boy te 'em?"

"**We** shan't be doing anything. **If** **I** choose to intervene I don't need any distractions or any more potential victims to protect. Besides he **might** not mean the boy any harm" Mallory didn't sound as if he believed his last statement for a second and Jack looked at him like he'd lost him mind.

"The boy?" I asked.

"The reason young Gullium Gaspar was crawling around the upper floor unattended is that their nurse delivered Lars here" Mallory replied without ever taking his attention off the hut.

"Won't Marissa notice she's short a child?"

"She's still fussing over Gilly at the moment but, yes, she will. Quite soon I should think. This has the potential to become quite, quite ugly very quickly."

Jack suddenly started forward but Mallory caught his arm. "I said stay **here**" he snapped before moving forward himself. Elizabeth glanced at Jack and I and then followed Mallory. Jack muttered "Like hell" and went after them both.

Mallory rounded on them "Go back, now."

"If you're going" Elizabeth started "we're going" Jack finished.

"Peas in a bloody pod" Mallory spat. A child's cry rendered all further conversation moot. Mallory bolted forward leaving the rest of us scrambling to keep up. It wasn't until he darted around the hut that I realized that the huts had been obscuring our view of something behind them. I stumbled and nearly fell over a thigh high heap of dead chickens. One particularly plump rooster went rolling through the flickering firelight to land at the feet of one of the most unimpressive negroes I'd ever seen. This was a ju-ju priest? He just looked like any other field buck. Mallory on the other hand obviously held a very different opinion as he moved warily forward. Lars squirmed in his nurse's grip wanting to run to Mallory. Mallory addressed the negro in the same gibberish he'd used with Adola.

The man smiled "Mes growin up in Jamaica. Mes no speakin the tongue o mes faders."

"Give me the boy and I will let you leave unharmed."

"And why mes doin dat, uh?" he took a step toward Mallory whose hand dropped to the hilt of his dragon dagger. The slave's white teeth seemed to almost glow against the darkness of his face as he smiled.

"Yous be fighten us all?" he asked still smiling. It was then I realized that there were other dark forms shifting in the shadows. I tried counting pairs of eyes since they were the only thing I could make out clearly but stopped as my heart sank all the way to my toes. There were too many eyes out there. More than the seventy Mallory had referred to earlier, a lot more. I was face to face with the thing every white colonist in the Caribbean dreaded most. A thing feared more than fever, pirates, war, and hurricanes – a slave revolt was brewing right here. One backed by real magic and real weapons by the faint gleam of steel in the torchlight. I wished for re-enforcements and hoped Jack was doing the same.

"I'm giving you just one more chance to save yourselves. Release the boy and depart." Mallory said something else in gibberish.

Some of the slaves babbled excitedly in gibberish until the ju-ju priest gestured for quiet. The sudden silence was like the ominous calm just before a storm.

"Some o mes people wants te be a-goin'. They say yous big magic, big mon. They no seeing what mes seeing, one woman widout no weapons, two mons wid naugting but swords, and a scrawny little boy, just skiny scarecrow. So, little scarecrow, what yous be doin?"

Mallory crossed his arms "I'm going to count to five and if Lars Gaspar isn't by my side I'm going to kill anyone between me and the beach. When you've returned the boy we will talk about other matters. One." Several shadows moved, disappearing into the night – but had they gone or were they simply moving around behind us?

"Die here, scarecrow, die at de big house, it ain't no difference. I wanted te start wid the yellow cat and her kittens but yous doin just fine." A few dark forms slipped away into the night. Where they leaving – or circling around behind us?

"Two."

The ju-ju priest stopped smiling "Tonight we's takin back ourselves. Tonight we's killen those that put us te the lash. You's not standing in the way o dat little scarecrow."

"I want the boy. I said nothing about interfering in anything else" Mallory returned. At his count of three the priest did something. There was no fireball, no fountain of sparks, no movement or sound from Mallory but the priest gloated **down** at something.

"So much for yous countin, so much for yous being big magic mon. Mes hittin hard, non?" He fixed the rest of us with a darkly amused smile. He completely dismissed Mallory standing between us and them and waved a dozen bucks with machetes towards us. I started to put myself between them and Elizabeth when I heard a sound that made my heart leap.

Mallory spat "Four."

The slave priest's eyes went wide in surprise. He had no time for anything else before becoming a human torch. I was caught between elation that we just might survive the night and absolute horror as a man was reduced to ash in the space between breaths. Nathalie dropped Lars and fled in terror along with most of the slaves. In that horrid blaze it was like the skittering flight of cockroaches when they're caught by candlelight. Lars immediately bolted for Mallory – _and ran right through him!_ Down, I realized as the boy stumbled into Elizabeth's arms. The glamour might still be standing but Mallory wasn't.

My hand tightened on my sword hilt as the remaining slaves realized that while their magician was ash ours was down and they still held by far the numerical advantage. On one hand they didn't know that Mallory didn't believe in using magic in a fight. On the other hand they were desperate enough to stand their ground in the face of what Mallory had done to their leader. I reminded myself that I'd faced far worse odds against undead pirates, that Mallory wasn't necessarily out, and that none of them had ever fenced. Jack might not be Mallory or I's equal in a fair fight but I still hadn't managed to best him because he never fought fair – he was more than good enough to take on a handful of field hands. Except it was more than a handful and we had Lars, Elizabeth, and maybe Mallory to protect. That would limit our movements and give them potential hostages. Elizabeth would box my ears for even thinking she needed protecting but she was unarmed and in the family way. Damn, but I really wanted re-enforcements. One of bucks started forward and crumpled soundlessly. There was a mutter of voices and a few more of the opposition melted into the darkness. They saw magic but I could see one of Mallory's little throwing knives buried deep in his left eye. I remembered those knives. I felt the faintest touch of a grin in spite of the situation. It was the only thing I'd ever bested Noman at. He'd spent at least an hour a day practicing with those little knives. He'd taught me the basics and within a fortnight I was as good, by the end of the month I was better. But it was more than just fond memories that brought a dark smile to my face. I'd spent years throwing blades and by the angle of entry, Mallory was on his knees, which meant that he might be back on his feet by now. He probably wasn't up to his usual unrivaled skill but just having him mobile made our situation far less desperate. I didn't like the unknowns. We didn't know how many of the slaves might have made their way between us and the chateaux. We didn't know how long it would be before someone realized Lars was missing and started searching. Most importantly we didn't know what Mallory's real condition was under the glamour. He might be dieing or fine or anything in between. He pulled a dagger out of his right boot and passed it back to Elizabeth. Definitely standing. I let go of a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding as one of the dark men's teeth glinted in the flickering light as he said something. Mallory gave him a smile that was more a baring of teeth and said something in reply. Jack was having a hard time not smiling. I personally didn't find much that was funny about the situation as the standoff continued and I wasn't the only one the wait was getting to, very soon they would either attack en masse or flee.

"What, exactly, do you find so amusing _Captain_ Sparrow?" Elizabeth hissed.

Jack gave one of his grand gestures as nonchalant as if we were at one of the Governor's interminable wine tastings "That large fellow over there made the observation that well bred white ladies aren't good for much but looking pretty and asked Mallory what he thought you were going te do with that little knife."

I didn't need to look at her. I could _feel_ the affront and the big slave who made the comment went still under her glare.

"Mallory's reply about what ye'd do te him with that knife would cause yer father te swoon" Jack continued in a fairly good imitation of the Governor "I am positively shocked that a _prince_ would stoop te playground taunts."

Mallory lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug "Any port in a storm. They'll think twice now, milady, before attacking you. Please stay behind us and protect Lars."

He held up a hand to forestall the protest that leapt to her lips "Yes, I am aware that you did quite well against Barbossa and his not so merry band of miscreants but you are with child and poorly armed. Please have a thought for the children."

'That was nicely done' I thought. The appeal to her maternal instincts wouldn't keep her in the background if things got really rough but she wouldn't charge to the front now unless she felt she _had_ to. The muttering on the other side went ominously quite. I could feel the attack coming and was almost glad. Mallory's sword _hissed_ out of its scabbard and my knees wanted to buckle. Jack muttered several curses. It didn't speak in words – at least not that I could understand but it howled its hunger for blood, shrieked its desire to destroy souls and rend hearts. The thing was a monstrosity, not of form, it had its own horrifying beauty, but of intent. I pulled my eyes away from it just in time to see a full third of our remaining adversaries fleeing and I was tempted to join them. That left us outnumbered four to about thirty. Easy odds if Mallory was up to par but the fact that he'd gone out of his way to intimidate said he wasn't. One of the slaves apparently considered Jack the weakest link and suddenly the fight was on.

My sword gave me superior reach but to utilize it to its fullest advantage I had to put more distance between Elizabeth and I than I liked. At least the hut was at our backs. I easily parried my first opponent's powerful but clumsy blows and ran him through. It was only then I realized my mistake. In the instant that my sword was buried in his chest I had no way to defend myself. I pulled desperately trying to get the sword free in time to parry a blow when the man's dark face was covered in something white. As I ran the man through I decided under **no** circumstances were my unborn children to ever hear how their father was once saved by parrot guano. The sting of a cut reminded me that if I didn't pay attention my unborn children weren't going to get a chance to meet their father. As I cut a third man's machete in two and put him down I saw Mallory stumble from the corner of my eye. Jack was thoroughly enmeshed with three opponents of his own, Elizabeth had augmented her dagger with a machete and was in a stare down with another slave, and I had two more men bearing down on me. If I turned to help Mallory I'd end up with a machete in my back, if I didn't he was going to end up with one in his head. Just as I made up my mind to turn anyway the crack of a pistol split the night and Mallory's attacker crumpled.

"Ahoy, mates! They're over here!" my father shouted as Mr. Cotton made _very_ short work of one of Jack's opponents. As Jack would say – very interesting, Mr. Cotton was surprisingly handy with a sword.

This was finally one upset too many and the remaining slaves scattered and fled. I looked around for the men my father was calling for but saw only the two of them. A quick glance revealed eighteen dead, nineteen when you added in the priest. One for Mr. Cotton, one for my father, I'd killed four, that left thirteen between Jack, Elizabeth, and Mallory who was slowly regaining his feet. I really, really wished he'd sheath that sword. The fight had only made the thing hungrier. From the way he slammed it back into its scabbard I'd say he agreed.

"Why did you let them get away?!" Elizabeth snapped at him.

Mallory merely glared at her and nearly went down again as Lars barreled into him. The boy backed off immediately staring at his bloody soaked hands and back up at Mallory.

Mallory said something to the boy in French and Elizabeth immediately flushed.

"Lizzy" Jack chided "Did ye stab me brother in the back with a machete?"

Elizabeth licked her lips "Not exactly."

Mallory just arched a brow at her "Could someone just please remove it? I can't quite reach it myself." He sidled back from Elizabeth "No offence, but I've had enough of your assistance for one night, milady."

"It would help if I could _see_ it" Jack complained. "Ah" he said disappointed when only the hilt appeared. He'd obviously hoped Mallory would drop the entire glamour. "There it is" he muttered as he wrapped a hand around the blood slicked hilt and tugged without result. He looked at Elizabeth "Buried it deep enough."

"Actually" Mallory responded as Elizabeth's flush deepened "I had the misfortune to fall on it when I was tripped and thus drove it deeper."

"Ye stabbed him and then tripped him – honestly Lizzy who's side are ye on?"

"I didn't intend to trip him" Elizabeth muttered defensively "but I _didn't_ actually stab him."

"Thank _you_" Mallory said to Jack when the blade finally came loose with a sucking sound. He didn't argue with Elizabeth's ascertation that she hadn't stabbed him but his eyes said she wasn't blameless either. Mallory Adfyw was none too happy with my wife. She muttered something else under her breath and Jack immediately backed away from both of them. I took a step toward Elizabeth refusing too let her stand alone.

"On the contrary, milady, if you hadn't followed me I may very well have managed to rescue Lars without killing any of these brave men."

"Brave men?" Elizabeth sneered "They were rebellious slaves and you should have burned all of them to ash. Dogs that bite their masters' hands deserve only destruction."

Mallory gave her the same incredulous look he'd given her father only a few hours earlier. "You claim to be enamored by pirates because they live as free as the wind, beyond the constraints of 'proper' society, you have married a tradesman in defiance of your station, and yet you have no sympathy with those who would take back that which has been stolen from them?"

"Jack and Will are men not beasts, they're white" Elizabeth snapped back and Mallory's eyes out shone the torches as an inferno lit in them.

"They're not beasts, milady." He growled back "They are **men**, no different from you." He spat at her feet "Horses and donkeys are of different species and when bred produce naught but sterile mules." He picked up Lars "But when a white man forces his slaves those children have no trouble producing children of their own do they, milady? And so to keep the fiction that you're not enslaving your fellow man you invent gradations so that each look becomes a new race – the negro, the griffe, the sambo, the mulatto, the quadroon, the mustee, the musteephimo. Your precious friends, the planters who are the backbone of the British in the Caribbean, are nothing but petty tyrants using men as beasts of burden. And for what? To satisfy the sweet tooths of the London rabble. In 1535 you couldn't even find sugar on the Mouldwarp's table." He rolled one of the dead men over so that his lifeless eyes seemed to gaze on us. "Is a bit of sweetener worth destroying thousands of lives? If I'd known in the 1500's what I know now I would never have backed England against Spain. You've become as bad as what you once fought."

I was shocked as Elizabeth barely gave the man on the ground a glance. I've never been quite sure what my own opinion of slavery. I've heard all the arguments of course; that the Africans' dark skin marks them as the decedents of Cain and Ham thus making their enslavement just, that they aren't really human at all just some sort of ape, or that as barbaric pagans it's our task as good Christians to both civilize them and convert them to Christianity. Living by the harbor for the last ten years watching pathetic bodies shamble off the ships it was hard to give any credence to 'Christian' charity.

"You'd have left a slave revolt unchecked?" she all but shrieked.

"There is a saying, milady, 'Those who sow to the wind shall reap the whirlwind'" Jack muttered something that might have been Hosea 8:7 "Those who kidnap their fellows from their homes and families, pack them like cordwood aboard ships, chain, beat, starve, and treat them like beasts of burden have richly earned the whirlwind."

Elizabeth glared chin up "And what would you have done if we hadn't followed you?"

Mallory gave her a dark look "I would have attempted to barter for the free passage of the Pearl's crew and the boys."

"Bartered with what?"

"The promise of my assistance" Mallory's calm reply stunned all of us speechless. When she recovered Elizabeth pointed up the hill.

"You'd help murder all those people for the sake of these, these, things?"

"Given the choice, milady, I've always preferred murder to torture and make no mistake that's what slavery is." He looked into Lars big blue eyes "The deaths of the planters would have weighed far less on my conscience than the thought that these **people** may spend centuries in bondage because I just slew their best chance at freedom." He sighed and you could hear the weight of the world in it. He looked at us over the top of Lars' head and it struck me for the first time that Mallory's hair was much darker than the little mustee's. "This is an excellent example of why I will make a poor king. A good king always weighs the risks, he's always ready to sacrifice the one for the common good. Bess always understood that and except for one moment of weakness with Eyes never forgot it. I know it here" he tapped his head. His words were address to Elizabeth but he watched Jack with an intensity that was almost frightening "but I've never been any good at abandoning those who matter to me. I knew before I ever left the chateaux to rescue Lars that I was being a fool. Logic and experience demanded that I simply leave him to them, gather you up, and leave this place to its well deserved fate" he shrugged a little without ever taking his eyes off of Jack "but I couldn't do it. That character flaw will likely cost me my life." His green eyes finally flickered away from Jack to lock on Elizabeth. "As I said the other night the difference between a hero and a villain is all a matter of perspective. Search parties are leaving the chateaux as we speak looking for Lars when they arrive you will all be hailed as heroes." There was something odd about Mallory's voice but I couldn't quite put my finger on what.

"Not we?" Jack asked quickly before Elizabeth could spit out any of the venom that was collecting behind her eyes. Personally, I wished she'd been allowed to speak. The longer it built the worse the resulting storm would be.

Mallory shook his head "While this would hardly be the first time I've smiled and accepted praise for what I personally considered basest villainy I find I have no stomach for the hypocrisy involved tonight. I will, instead, be returning to the Peregrine."

"Why te the Peregrine and not the Pearl?" Jack asked as he moved between Mallory and the beach. There was still _something_ wrong with Mallory's voice and from the way my father was looking at him I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. I glanced at Mr. Cotton but he only had one expression for all occasions. The parrot on the other hand was flying in tight little circles above Mallory's head saying "on a dead man's chest" in a progressively more annoying manner. I glanced at Jack but if he knew what that meant he gave no sign.

"While the Pearl could undoubtedly keep me safe while I am indisposed tomorrow I see no reason to tempt your crew."

"Ye think me crew would attack ye?"

Mallory merely arched a brow and tried to pass Lars to Jack but the boy clung to him. "You don't?"

Sometimes it's easy to forget that Jack is a pirate and a killer but in the instant Mallory suggested Jack's crew might act against him something flashed through Jack's eyes more vicious than anything I'd ever seen in Mallory's.

"I don't suffer mutineers."

Mallory said something to Lars in French. I glanced at Elizabeth and then decided I didn't need a translation that much. The little boy gave Jack a doubtful look. I couldn't blame him. _I_ wouldn't go to Jack right now either. Jack finally managed to smile and pulled a half-dozen coins out of the boy's ears. That blasted parrot was still saying "dead man's chest" over and over and over. Lars reluctantly allowed himself to be passed to Jack. Mallory gave us a brief nod before turning to go when Elizabeth grabbed his arm.

"Is something amiss, milady?"

She pointed to Mr. Cotton "If my friends are such monsters then what are your people? Didn't you say he was a slave?"

"Yes, I did. And if I survive to sit on the throne of my forefathers slavery **will** end in Avalon. If I accomplish nothing else in my life that will be sufficient. If I do manage to die old in my bed in a thousand years and all they can think of to put on my sepulcher is 'he was not a tyrant' I will count my reign a success. Some things are **wrong**, milady. You can make them legal but you can't erase the stain they leave on spirit and soul. It's hard as a murderer to cast many moral stones but I'll say this, there is a death greater than the death of mere flesh and that is the death of spirit. In my experience there is nothing worse than to look into the abyss in which all hope has faded. Hunger, thirst, and disease are not the great killers of the slaves – despair is. A challenge for you, milady, when you return home look into the eyes of your planter friends and then really look at the slaves. When you've done that I'll argue the rights and wrongs of slavery to your heart's content."

Elizabeth was about to retort when my father touched the ground, rolled his blood stained fingers together, and asked "Where else are ye injured?"

"I'm fine" was the not unexpected reply.

"Prove it - stop using Wind to do yer talking" Jack challenged. When Mallory remained silent Jack cursed "Then we're all going te the bloody Pearl."

"Take Lars back" Mallory rasped and then had to stop for a coughing fit that chilled me to my toes. Mum, he sounded just like mum before she died. He spat a frightening amount of blood and then continued "And tell Marie I can't give her much longer."

Jack touched him "Bloody hell, yer burning up. Was the machete poisoned?"

Mallory shook his head "It's an old wound acting up." He tried to give a rueful chuckle and the resulting coughing fit took him to his hands and knees. When he could speak again he gasped "It's the legacy of the day I was the one to reap the whirlwind."

My father glanced up at the still agitated parrot "It's the time bomb in your chest isn't it."

Again there was that suggestion of ears flickering forward and then flattening back "Not quite" the Wind must have spoken for him since he was hacking up more bright arterial blood "Your pardons but I need to get back to the Sea."

"Bill, Mr. Not Cotton, carry him te the beach" Jack ordered but Mallory shook his head, climbed to his feet, and stumbled off in the correct direction. You could hear the search parties approaching.

Jack sighed "Follow him, carry him if you have to but see te it he reaches the beach." Jack shot Elizabeth a glance and they had another one of those eerie moments of understanding before she cut across the field in pursuit of Mallory.

"Sefyll" he said softly but with authority as we caught up.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked all trace of her anger gone. I glanced at her in surprise and sighed. Poor Mallory, wounded and with Jack and Elizabeth conspiring against him.

"Sea wishes to come and fetch me" the Wind replied for him. Now that I knew to listen I could tell the difference.

"Why won't you let her?"

"She'd drown the fields in salt water" the Wind replied while Mallory continued slowly toward the beach. Elizabeth just stared at him in confusion.

"Your father kept you very sheltered didn't he, milady" the Wind observed for him. Elizabeth might not understand but I did and my opinion of Mallory rose. We'd argued once over the slaves' Sabbath. Elizabeth had been going on about how generous it was of the planters to give the slaves one day off to go to church. What she didn't seem understand was that it wasn't a day off at all and it certainly wasn't generous. Most of the planters of Jamaica required their slaves to raise their own food on small plots that were too marginal for sugar cane or cotton but they only allowed them one day to tend those gardens. Even in the moonlight I could see the hodge-podge of crops here instead of the long rows of cane. These were the slaves' fields. If Mallory called the Sea to him now the slaves would go hungry. He was barely able to stand but instead of taking the straightest route to the beach he was carefully picking his way around the plants. Elizabeth whole and hale just blundered through trampling as she went. I don't think I'd ever felt the differences in our stations more keenly. He went to his knees again in another coughing fit.

"Mallory" I began as he wiped his lips with a shaking hand. He flickered a questioning glance at me as he started the slow process of fighting his way back to his feet. God what do I say? I couldn't stand watching him shamble to the beach but I didn't want to try to force him to let me carry him either. I had a thought that would make Jack and Elizabeth proud of me and that mum would have licked me for. "If you can get to the Sea in time you can help Marie for longer, can't you?"

Those proud green eyes glared for an instant in defiance and then, surprisingly, dropped in defeat. I felt like an utter heel as I gathered him up. It had been a terribly cheap shot and I think if she hadn't been a factor he'd have crawled to the beach first. So light, I had hammers at the forge that weighted more. My fingers sank into the hollows between his ribs and I quickened my pace. The sunken frame and the ragged fight for breath was so like Mum's at the end. He reminded me of Mrs. Cockburn's cat – what was his name? Storm? Smoke? She'd been in an absolute state one morning when he didn't come home and had begged me to go looking for him. After half a day I'd found him battered and cut from some unknown assault. He'd let me pick him up but he'd had a proud stiffness that matched Malloy's. Come to think of it, they both had slitted green eyes, pointy ears, and black hair. What **was** that cat's name? He really was more like the cat than Mum. Not like Mum at all. Not a bit like, like her, he was like the cat, whatever his name was. His breath hitched and rattled and I broke into a full out run only to suddenly find myself in waist deep water. Apparently the Sea had decided to veto Mallory's refusal but a glance showed cane tops poking up through the water. We were clear of the slave's gardens. Mallory clambered into the Peregrine's dingy. I could already hear the difference in his breathing and I gave a sigh of relief. I turned to carry Elizabeth to the boat but the Sea split so all I had to do was give her a steadying hand. My father and Mr. Cotton started to take up the oars but the Sea swiftly receded pulling us out to the Peregrine.

**Littlebird**Welcome back! Jack's 'Ye might have told me" is in reference to the fact that Mallory **himself** has pointy ears. Sorry I didn't manage to make that clear. For my purposes Jack has been wearing that bandana most of his life to avoid teasing or worse for what he's always considered a physical deformity. Let's face it – the people of the 1700's didn't have much mercy on the deformed. Knowing that Mallory shared them wouldn't have made life any easier in truth but it would have made him feel less like a freak. And, yes, he's always known he could move them and that he has better hearing than most.

Is Jack's denial of his ability to do magic for so long credible? It is to me and not exactly because I'm the author and it's convenient for me – would indulge me while I use few examples from my own life? My mother and her husband are of the tongue talking, faith healing, tell everyone you meet how wonderful Jesus is and we're saved by faith BORN AGAIN Christian crowd. (The caps are for the way they say born again – the emphasis is palpable.) I am of the skeptical, don't believe til I see it, agnostic on a good day, scientific crowd and have been all my life (mind you I **love** a good fantasy but that doesn't mean I believe in it). I love the Museum of Natural History down in Washington DC. I have since the first time I stepped through the doors at four and go whenever I get the chance. They asked me where I'd like to go for my eleventh birthday and without considering the wisdom of the choice I said the Museum of Natural History. As we walked into the rotunda we came face to face with a wooly mammoth.

The first words out of my new (as in married to my mother for less than a week known him for not yet a fortnight) stepfather's mouth were "There's no such thing as mammoths". Now mom had only been a born again Christian for about 6 weeks and since I lived with my dad I hadn't quite caught up with all the new rules yet. I blinked at the mammoth for a beat and then pointed to the dinosaur head that extended into the rotunda.

"What about dinosaurs?"

"No they never existed either" was the reply. I was then gently informed that I'd been lied to all my life. Fossils aren't real. They're part of a grand scheme by the Devil and certain human agents to deceive people so that they'll loose their faith in the one true God and go to Hell. I was informed that the Earth is ONLY six thousand years old anyone who says anything different has either a.) been tricked by the Devil that Prince of Lies or b.) is one of the people who plants false 'evidence' like fossils for other poor fools to find. My dumbfounded silence was taken for acceptance and the entire museum was explained away by my stepfather in an extremely condescending tone about the idiots who actually believe in 'evolution, decent with modification, fossils, C-14 dating, and all that baloney'.

On the way home I made some plans. My father is a boiler operator for the local university. I'd spent the last three summers in an on campus camp in which most of the councilors were students. One of the major perks (in my opinion) was that we were occasionally allowed to tag along in some of the labs and the library. I'd had had second year geology under grad that summer so I knew where to go and had someone to pepper with questions. Since I considered finding anything in the way of a dinosaur extremely unlikely we looked for likely trilobite bearing layers that reached the surface since they're far more numerous. I picked a promising spot, called the owners, and asked if they minded if I stopped by and removed some rocks from their property. So the next weekend my step-father and I went, we grabbed some rocks, and took them to mom's for further study. I found no trilobites but did find extinct bivalve and gastropod fossils. My stepfather to this day boasts about how the failure of my 'little experiment' proves his point. In his consideration we only found **modern** animals – not REAL fossils. Never mind that they were extinct – they died in Noah's flood. My protest that MARINE species shouldn't have died in a flood – what were there scallops on the ark too?! was completely ignored. My point was we went to a random location where no one had looked for fossils before based on scientific data that indicated they should be there –and they were there. But that doesn't fit his definition of the world in which anything that isn't contained within the pages of the Bible is a lie of Satan designed to fool the unwary. My mother gets a great deal of sympathy about her wayward scientist daughter – everyone's praying that I'll 'see the light someday and realize the error of my ways before it's too late'.

Take doctors and healing – my mother hasn't seen a doctor in 20 years because that would be a 'lack of faith'. They lay hands on the sick. Sometimes they get better. Sometimes they don't. If they recover everyone gives testimony on how Jesus healed and saved them (BTW this includes maladies as simple as the common cold) if they don't – well they must have lost their faith. I've been in 'healing rooms' were people the doctors have given up on have walked out. It does happen, not very often, but it does. They see a miracle. I see the mind having a profound effect on the body. Maybe when I die I'll discover they were right and spend eternity in Hell. Maybe they'll discover I was right and life ends when the body dies. Maybe we're both wrong, the Hindus are right, and we'll be reincarnated. (In which case given my time in labs karma dictates I will be a Department of Defense lab rat in my next life which will be unpleasant and painful. May the Great Wheel turn swiftly then.) It's amazing what people can convince themselves of when they put their minds to it.

What does any of this have to do with Jack? In this story Jack is a street child when he meets Mallory. Wary, suspicious, and utterly convinced no one does anything for free. Mallory offers him the deal of a lifetime ergo he is either mad or he's hiding something. This is mere days after Mallory's escape. He certainly isn't and still isn't 26 years later recovered from what was done to him. He's gotten progressively better at covering and controlling what's amiss but the bottom line is something is profoundly **wrong **with Mallory. By the time the Pearl is launched a year later Mallory, the master of disguise that he is, is ready for public consumption. No one else ever suspects that Mallory is off kilter except Bledri who knew him before. Jack spends the next 13 years getting told HE'S the one that's out of his mind but he knows that he knows that he knows Mallory has problems. Mallory is teaching Jack magic on the sly. No one else knows and with the exception of that moment on the stairs – NONE OF IT WORKS FOR JACK. He's too young but Mallory never tells him that. He has a wild card talent – sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't – not the kind of thing one puts ones faith in. Mallory knows that the odds are good someday something nasty is going to come for Jack and he wants him to be able to defend himself but Mallory has lived his whole life by schemes, lies, and secrecy. Mallory never tells Jack that **he** is an Ellyllon – just that they exist. Jack isn't the only one life has taught to play things close to the chest. Mallory tells Jack as little as he can. He never tells Jack **he** can hear the Wind. He speaks to the Pearl only a handful of times in Jack's presence. Jack can't hear Peregrine so he never has cause to suspect that connection. In sum Jack knows 1.) Mallory is mad and 2.) Mallory is hiding something. This does not encourage him to trust Mallory. And let's face it hearing talking breezes and ships in the 1600 to 1700's was a very good way to become part of a human bonfire. The whole world except Mallory is telling Jack that he if he hears the Wind or Pearl that he's either mad or possessed. What do you do? Believe the man you believe is mad – or deny the truth and pray very hard you aren't nuts and it'll all go away?

If my mother and her husband can convince themselves that every scientific discovery that doesn't match a strict, literal reading of Genesis is a lie I don't have any trouble believing that Jack can at least convince himself that hearing the Wind and the Pearl is just his overactive imagination. On the other hand maybe I've just spent too much time with people who live in their own private reality…


	17. No Good Deed

**Author's notes: I'm experimenting with some 'journalesque' writing in this section so please let me know if you love it/can't stand it so I can gauge the journal chapter lengths better. I'm declaring this chapter 12 because 11 just got too darn big! I'm splitting 12 in half (possibly thirds) and adding a 13 therefore I'm pushing the promised action chapter off to 14. **

**Cal****: Um –WOW! **I think your review is longer than the chapter was! - My response got so long I shuffled it to the bottom as a courtesy to other readers. My apologies that Anna-Maria isn't in this section. Our cast is limited to those who made the trip out to the Peregrine (and a special guest). Thanks for inspiring the chapter title ;) and at least one line

**Rose of ****England** I've never read a story in which the parrot actually **makes** the rescue so I decided it should get to be one of the cavalry :)

**PirateBlacksmith: **Nice to 'see' you! I'm glad you're still enjoying my insanity. And I'm glad you think I've managed to stay 'in character' – I do wonder when I'm editing if I'm hitting the right note at all.

**Little Bird**: Counter points also taken. Oh and **DON'T** apologize these get written in my moments of writer's block. Thinking up responses gets the creative juices flowing again. Mallory walked a fine line. He wanted Jack to know enough to be able to handle an attack but didn't want to come clean with the truth either. In point of fact he **still** hasn't come clean with the full truth. It will take the journal to put a few critical pieces in place because wild horses and a week on the rack couldn't make Mallory tell Jack. A pirate ship unlike a merchant or naval vessel was sort of a democracy - the crew had a vote in most major decisions. Getting Barbossa onto his side would go a long way towards getting the crew into his corner. And Jack was very young and trusted the absolute wrong person. Of course he may also have showing off at the time, that whole a curse, a treasure, and an island no one but he could find thing ;). As for Elizabeth and Anna-Maria please see the 5th paragraph of my dissertation to Cal at the bottom. Ju-ju is a term I've seen in some of the older books (published in the early 1800's in one case) in the local university library and seems almost but not quite the same as voodoo.

Yes, there is most definitely a reason for Mallory's stare but not quite the one you've proposed And your question about the undead is somewhat eerie considering some of the revelations to come…

**Istani: **So how many pages is this monster? I've lost count!

**Dragon Hunter200: **Yes the ju-ju priest had no trouble at all seeing through Mallory's glamour. And the not parrot is very proud of saving Will :). Just a note you may not want to read the last bit too late at night ;). The tale Mallory tells in his cabin is actually a "journal" teaser pushed up a bit so let me know what you think! And my two cat rule just went bust. A lady at mom's church needed a new home for her cat. So I now have a black and white long hair of unknown age (she's at least 6) in addition to my black smoke and orange tabby, also longhairs. My boys don't mind her but she still has issues with them. Of course they both tip the scales at 15 lbs and she's only 7 or 8. How can you own an animal for 5 years and NOT know if it's male or female?!

**Hithwen:** Welcome to my obsession!!

Blood of Avalon - Chapter 12 - No Good Deed Goes Unpunished I

I gave the puddles I was leaving on Peregrine's black deck a rueful look as I noted that Mallory and I were the only ones who had gotten wet. Mallory leaned against the mast and the sails started unfurling and the windlass started turning to raise the anchor.

"Where are we going?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Not far" Mallory replied hoarsely. He coughed but it lacked the desperate, bone jarring force it had had earlier "We're still too close to land. We'll heave to outside the harbor in deeper water." He ran a hand up the mast and said something that sounded like"Mae'n chwith gen I beth me eb. Maddewch I mi. Boddhain gwenued dim Adarrto lladdedig. Diolch."

I ransacked my memory for what bits of El'lan I'd picked up. Maddewch I mi was forgive me. Boddhain was please, Adarrto was sparrow and therefore must refer to Jack, dim was not or no, and if I recalled correctly lladdedig was something about slaying. Was Mallory worried about the Peregrine harming Jack? Was that why he'd threatened to burn him? I shifted nervously on the deck were **_we_** safe aboard the Peregrine?

Mallory pushed himself away from the mast and slowly made his way down to what must be his cabin. To my surprise he by passed the bed and curled up in the window casements. After fumbling a bit with the latches he heaved the windows open and then asked huskily "Again, is there some reason why everyone insists on following me around?"

"We're worried about you" Elizabeth said too earnestly.

Mallory gave her as much of a bow as he could in the casement and finished with a flourish of hands that made me wonder if he was imitating Jack or if Jack was imitating him. "Your concern is appreciated in the spirit in which it is offered, but unnecessary." There was a distinctly sarcastic undercurrent to Mallory's voice. Something shifted in the window. I strained my eyes trying to see beyond Mallory's shoulders. With a gesture the candles lit revealing the Sea, or at least the aspect of Her that I'd seen the other night glaring at Jack, wrapped around Mallory. He leaned back pillowing his shoulders against Her liquid breast. "As you can see, milady, between Peregrine and Sea I have nursemaids enough. You may avail yourselves of any cabin which suits your fancy, my library is open to you, I fear the perishables in the galley are long since perished but there should be enough stored goods to keep body and soul together for some time" he said in a clearly dismissive tone. He sank back into the Sea's embrace with a slight cough.

Elizabeth sat at his desk plainly having no intention of leaving.

"Your father clearly failed to teach you manners, milady."

"Will manners get me what I want?"

"And what **do** you want of me, milady?" his voice still had a rough note to it.

All eyes, including the Sea's less than friendly fluid ones, turned to Elizabeth. Apparently my brilliant, witty wife hadn't planned for this particular turn of conversation and there was a pause before her reply. "My friends **aren't **monsters. They're good people."

Mallory hitched himself a bit more upright before replying "If there is one thing ninety-three years among your people has taught me it's that otherwise kind and compassionate people can do some spectacularly cruel things under the right circumstances. There is within the human soul a capacity for infinite darkness and unparalleled light and the two can exist side by side. If there is one thing seventy-seven years in the dark revealed to me is that we are each responsible for our own actions. Circumstances are nothing but pretexts, they excuse **_nothing_**. Some things are simply wrong but we **_all_** have a dreadful gift for absolving ourselves of the crimes we commit." He shrugged "We must all find our own paths to enlightenment." His eyelids sagged as the Sea's formless fingers massaged his temples. "Sefyll" he murmured drowsily slumping further back into the Sea and then struggling back up. "Sefyll" he repeated sounding slightly more awake and with almost no rasp left in his voice.

"What's the matter?" Elizabeth asked.

He was fighting to keep his eyes open and he was slurring instead of coughing "Sea's doing Her level best to put me to sleep but if She succeeds I'll lose the link to Marie." His lids were fluttering now as he struggled faintly against Her.

"Talking might help keep you awake" Elizabeth suggested but her eyes had dropped to Mallory's chest and her fingers actually twitched. The journal - she was hoping to make a play for the journal. I somehow doubted that it would be wise to do it in the presence of the Sea.

"'bout what?" was the somnolent reply.

To my surprise it was my father who made a suggestion. "What's wrong with your chest and for what did you reap the whirlwind?"

Mallory was silent so long I thought at first that the Sea had succeeded. He finally spoke in a thankfully smooth but dreamily distant tone that made me think he was far more asleep than awake.

"Where to begin? How do you separate a few strands from a tapestry and yet retain the warp?" He shifted in the Sea's embrace but She flowed back around him keeping him pinioned. "Sandro, I should start with Sandro…"

Suddenly there were other people in the cabin with us. Illusions, I realized. Mallory was a master of shadow. I glanced over at him and wondered if the figure bonelessly limp in the Sea's embrace even realized he was casting them.

I looked back fascinated at the vision of a time long past. As Mallory muttered "I met Sandro for the first time in late June of 1547. I was fourteen. He was two." Abruptly I was no longer watching but within, looking out at the world through Mallory's eyes. I struggled for an instant in surprise but was too fascinated to fight for long…

_ I straightened the laces on my doublet in annoyance. It's so **difficult** to find good servants! I gave both my reflections a hard look. First the one for the dynols. Fourteen was such an awkward age among the dynol, all long bones out of proportion to the rest. I sighed, at least I wouldn't have to project so ungainly an image for long since the dynol age so quickly. Curly auburn hair so different from my own dark blue tresses was as neatly tamed as would be possible. Blue-grey eyes blinked in perfect unison with my own – a minor but important point in maintaining a good shadow. It was a detail that was far too often overlooked among my instructors, sloppy of them. I didn't like sloppy – sloppy gets you killed. The freckles I'd scattered across my glamour's nose were an annoyance but I'd never seen anyone of this particular complexion without them. Details, details, **survival** was in the details. The slate blue and black outfit with its silver and pearl accents looked perfect. I encircled myself with a second glamour, letting the first fade just enough so I could see my real self through it but no one could see me through the second. Not a strand of my straight hair was loose from its braid, the black on black garments I favored for 'working' in perfect repair, all of my 'toys' in their proper places._

The part of me that was still Will blinked in surprise. I knew that when he thought working he meant killing but the pointy-eared child in the mirror looked so terribly young. And the mental inventory of 'toys' made me shiver. I wondered if Mallory still carried that much weaponry?

_ I let the first shadow regain substance, dismissed the second, and arched one pale auburn brow at Argellion's reflection ere he could be come too restless._

_"We are to appear before the Emperor within the hour" he reminded me. _

Again I lost the thread of things in surprise – everything seemed to be in slow motion. I shook my head a little and lost myself again in being Mallory.

_At least his glamour looked more like himself than mine was ever likely to. Of course he, like all my instructors, was merely rhith to my far more difficult game of true changeling. _

_"I am quite aware of that" I gave myself one more glance in the mirror. _

_"You look perfect, mi tywysogion, as always" he said, properly respectful but I could hear the impatience under it._

_His fretting amused me and I considered fussing a bit more but decided against it. It would not do to offend Charles V, one of the most powerful dynol merely to distress Argellion, particularly when that could be accomplished at my leisure. With a flick of the wrist I indicated my intention to depart the chamber. Mannwan and Argellion fell in obediently behind me as we swept down to Charles' chamber._

MY GOD! He had said he saw souls but I was utterly unprepared for my first real look at the world through Mallory's eyes. The servant in the hallway was enveloped in a ring of glittering light that shifted and melded the colors flickering and swirling. It made me dizzy as colors for which I had no names danced around every person in sight. I could feel the fragile link beginning to slip and I took a deep breath, tried to relax and let whatever was happening happen.

_I waited, watching the painfully slow swirl of dynol servants, as amused by Mannwan's indignation as Argellion's impatience. The fact that I, a scion of House Penthalion, was cooling my heels at the whim of a mere dynol king ate at him. I had come to the conclusion that Mannwan would see anything short of abject worship of me by the dynol as an insult to my honor. I, personally, found the thought oddly unsettling though I couldn't seem to decided why. Perhaps I've merely spent too much time with people who believe in one omnipotent God to be comfortable being considered divine? I gave Guile de Nassau a brief nod when he came to fetch us. It was odd looking up at him to think that our births were less than a fortnight apart. Odder still was the loquacious young man's nickname – Guile the Silent. The man talked more than any woman I'd ever met but I liked him all the same. I admired briefly the beautiful blues of the Prince of __Orange__'s enaid as he announced me._

_"Rhys ap Griffith, Lord Tallyrand." Fiery son of Thunder - it had a certain appropriateness to it even if it had been someone else's name in reality._

_I gave the Holy Roman Emperor an even more elegant bow than I normally would just for Mannwan's sake. I think my sensitive ears picked up the sound of grinding teeth. I pitied Charles V. His enaid was so worn and weary that it was nearly gray. I'd seen ghosts with more substance to their souls. Until I'd met him a few weeks ago I wouldn't have thought it possible to be that far gone and survive. Men should not look like this mere months after one of their greatest triumphs and I wondered if Charles himself might have been better served by a defeat against the Protestants at Muhlberg. The whole thing really was terribly silly. The dynol were burning people alive over the deep and meaningful question – is Christ physically present in the Host or not? Apparently no one had explained the concept of metaphor to certain theologians. Yes, Christ had said this is my body, but he'd also said he was a bloody door. Ah, well, since I wasn't a believer the whole mess really wasn't any of my business. Of course one day I'd have a similar mess of my own. If Argellion's history lessons were to be trusted there was some debate in Avalon as to the true state of House Penthalion. Were we ourselves divine or merely honored descents of the divine and was only the ruling king divine or the entire House? No sense in borrowing trouble that wouldn't be knocking at **my** door for decades, possibly even centuries to come. I let my gaze travel to the reason I'd been summoned before the Emperor in the first place. Margaux Farnese, his bastard daughter's enaid was nearly as faded as his own. I would have shot her a sympathetic glance but I wasn't supposed to know why I'd been brought here yet. I was, frankly, befuddled at how surprised she'd been at her father's pronouncement. No bastards, I swore to myself in the (to me) long wait for Charles to speak. The lot of a royal bastard was not one I'd wish on any child. One that I **would not **inflict on my own children. Of course it was easy to say that now when it would be another fifty or more years until I was old enough to sire a child. I might have a different perspective on the matter but looking at the utterly miserable Margaux I sincerely hoped not. Had she actually expected her father to support her action? Poor naive fool. Now she had made a bad situation unspeakably worse. Not only was her father going to pack her back off to the husband she'd run away from now she was about to loose her children as well. Somehow I rather doubted Ottivio Farnese was going to be in an understanding mood._

_"Lord Tallyrand, is it true you speak over ten languages?"_

_'Well over' I though but more diplomatically replied "The Lord has richly blessed me with the gift of diverse tongues."_

_The faint sound of grinding teeth got just a bit louder but still not enough for the dynol to hear, best to try to keep it that way._

_"Would that my heir had been similarly blessed" the old king mused. Except that he wasn't it point of fact old, a mere 47 and yet he carried every year like a loadstone. "You have the favor of Henri II of __France__ as well?"_

_I restrained a shiver- favor was one way of putting it. I owed Blaenu in spades for salvaging that particular situation. It's a damn good thing dynol trust their eyes far more than their finger tips or we'd have never pulled off the switch._

_Of course if they did pay attention I'd never be able to pull off any of these charades._

_"He seems well pleased with me and I have his passport to travel freely through his domains" I replied letting none of my personal animosity bleed over into my voice._

_Charles nodded to himself. I wondered idly how in blazes he didn't drool out of that God awful Hapsburg jaw. The Hapsburg jaw had to be one of the best anti-inbreeding arguments I'd ever seen. Mind you, my own House was even more inbred but at least we **looked** **damn** good – and we could actually chew our food. I wished he'd just get to the bloody point – I had work to do today. The longer I lingered here the more difficult the task became. Not that I really anticipated that my current assignment would give me any trouble. I also wondered what Mannwan was charging for my services these days – what was the going rate to have your cuckolding servant murdered by an Ellyllon prince? Not that the money was ever the point. My grandsire had decreed that I would be an assassin and therefore apparently an assassin I would be. The coin merely meant that instead of picking random victims I spent my time killing people that someone else wanted dead badly enough to pay for the privilege. Not that someone else picking my marks was anything new. First Cromwell had picked my victims to suit his political agenda now Mannwan chose them to further someone else's. The only difference was Cromwell had only cared that the job was done at the end of the day Mannwan on the other hand was on a mission to drive me mad with all the stipulations and conditions. The longer we stood here the more likely he was to think up something truly disturbed. I shot the little boys at Margaux's feet a glance. To dynol eyes the twins were as alike as two peas in the same pod but to mine as different as night and day. The left hand boy's enaid was plum. It wasn't a bad shade but there was nothing else, none of the flash and fire that I was accustomed to. Occasionally you saw this kind of thing in some ancient soul that was dogmatically set in its ways but I'd never beheld it in any child let alone one so young. I considered reaching out with my ichae, that combination of gifts that let me heal and making sure that the boy was well, but Mannwan would tie my ears in a bow if he caught me at it. I wanted to shift impatiently as the king remained silent but didn't. There was no reason for this. His silence was giving his daughter false hope. I could tell by his enaid that he had not changed his mind. The right hand boy looked up at me and licked his lips. Lots of greens and blues in this one's enaid. I'd never met a blue I didn't like and I tended to get along well with most greens. Just as well that I would (probably) like one of the little brats since I'd be crossing the breadth of __France__ and half of __Spain__ with them, though I was utterly mystified why we would be traveling overland._

_"The English Protector speaks well of you" Charles finally said._

_"I am humbled that he holds me in such regard" not the best thing to say in front of Mannwan but appropriate to the situation. Charles went silent again. The Regent's great, smelly, ugly hounds were less patient. They whined about her feet gazing longingly out at the Soigne eager to hunt. I restrained another shiver not at all pleased to be trapped in this little room with her pack. While I had no qualms about hunting out of necessity I recalled far too vividly what it was like to be the hunted to enjoy it. I flicked my gaze up from the dogs and accidentally caught Mary of Hungry, Regent of the __Netherlands__ eye. I glanced away as quickly as possible. It wouldn't do to insult the Regent in her own palace. To dynol eyes she was merely hard, proud, and cold (and an unfortunate recipient of a jaw that nearly matched her brother's) but to mine she was an open wound. Once upon a time she had had what the dynol call true love and what my people call secher. The dynol bible should really say and the two become one soul instead of one flesh. Casual acquaintances and one night stands might color (or discolor) the enaid briefly but any long term relationship colored the enaid for life – none more than a sexual one. In most cases couples blended together slowly (or occasionally not at all. Every so often an arranged marriage went spectacularly wrong and the endaids not only didn't mesh – they actively repelled) but not sechers. Let the poor half-blind dynol rave about the play of light through a cathedral's stained glass windows it was **NOTHING** in comparison to the living beauty of a secher pair. I forced myself to look at the Regent again and nearly winced in spite of my best efforts not to. She was a discordant jangle against my senses, like a symphony out of tune or painting slashed. It was like seeing a shattered masterpiece and knowing that there was no way to set it right. To say she set my teeth on edge was a profound understatement. And the silence was beginning to get to me. Part of Mannwan's conditions for today's work was no using Wind to scout ahead. To ensure that Wind didn't tip me off Dirwyn had forbidden Wind to enter the palace for the next four hours. At first the strange silence had been an intriguing novelty but I was beginning to feel as if I'd been rendered deaf. Is this all the dynol ever heard? Poor things! The lack of Wind's engaging company was making it progressively harder for me to ignore the Regent's disturbed enaid. Bess had called me meddler and worse for my matchmaking among the servants but the truth was less romantic and far more selfish. Poorly matched pairs were, at best, an affront to my sense of aesthetics at worst actually painful. I certainly didn't begrudge those I matched their resulting happiness but it was my own peace of mind that drove my meddling. Speaking of which with Mannwan silencing Earth, Dirwyn restraining Wind, and my own restraint regarding Sea and Fire the Regent's marred enaid was impossibly annoying. The mere thought of Sea seemed to attract Her attention. Perceiving my discomfort She immediately offered to fetch me away. It was only with difficulty that I convinced Her that I didn't need rescuing. I hadn't realized just how deeply She resented the dikes that stole Her territory from Her. Oh, but She was eager to flood the __Netherlands_

_Charles seemed to come to a decision. In point of fact the decision had been long since made but we all had to play the game. "My son would benefit from association with someone familiar with the English and French courts. And I need someone to accompany my grandsons to __Valladolid__."_

_Not a command, oh no of course not, and now as a proper courtier it was my turn to enthusiastically volunteer. It took effort not to roll my eyes. _

_"An it please your eminence your humble servant would consider it a privilege to serve your Grace and your House by accompanying your delightful grandsons to __Spain__ and then rendering whatever modest assistance I can to the Infantate." _

_In the absence of Wind's chatter I could hear Mannwan's heart rate pick up. One would think after five years of the dynol courts Mannwan would be used to this but no matter how many audiences he attended he always looked as if someone had just force fed him an oversized hairy spider afterwards. I suppose if I'd just had to watch one of my gods bootlick someone I consider a milyn I wouldn't be best pleased either. God – me? History and Wind both provided numerous examples of god-kings but… oh, bugger all, I didn't like it. King, fine, a cut above the rest, without a doubt, but god was pushing things a bit further than even my pride wanted to go. Charles appeared to find my bootlicking to his liking. Bootlicking really is an art form. Too much and you're a toady and sent to the block not enough and you're taking on airs and sent to the block. I seemed to have a knack for it. Mayhap I should write a treatise on it. Had the Holy Roman Emperor and the Regent of the __Netherlands__ **nothing** better to do than torment this poor woman? Of course not – she had to be taught a lesson. The lesson of House Hapsburg, A.E.I.O.U. – __Austria__ Est Imperare Omni Universo, it is for __Austria__ to rule the Universe. The unofficial motto of the Hapsburg, the dogma under which every member of the House, legitimate or not, must live and die. Each and every one a living sacrifice to dynastic ambition. If the three members of House in front of me were any indication the road to world domination was pretty thankless. I, personally, would have been thinking up a new motto but like the religious wars it wasn't really my affair. My affair was to end someone else's and I was beginning to become annoyed. Also I was beginning to get a whiff of something other than hound. Apparently the little darlings weren't housebroken yet, lovely. The blue-green boy wrinkled his nose and backed away from his plum brother. Charles frowned down at the boys._

_"These are Carlos" he gestured to the blue-green child who went abruptly yellow. The tyke had my instant sympathy. I knew all about being called by the wrong name. I was tempted to tell him he was fortunate – he **had** a name. That meant the plum was Carlos who didn't even **react **to either name. I was becoming progressively more concerned that Carlos was a couple of bricks shy of the proverbial full load. "and Alessandro Farnese." Sandro – I could tell be the reactions of his enaid that the boy called himself Sandro. "You will depart at first light. You may go."_

**_Finally!_**_ I went through all the proper courtly motions before backing out of the room and then spinning on my heel._

_"M'Lord Tallyrand" Margeaux called behind me with a desperate edge to her voice. _

_I found myself far less impatient with this young mother than I had been with her father and aunt. I bowed as gracefully as I had to her father. Mannwan would undoubtedly chide me for it later but it cost me nothing and restored a bit of her composure. I cocked my head at her expectantly. Little Sandro squirmed free of the servant who was taking him back to the nursery to stand at his mother's side. Carlos the __Plum__ could have cared less but Sandro in spite of being raised in an Italian household and thus knowing none of the Flemish we'd been speaking knew something was up. Smart tyke. She reached down and set a trembling hand on the crown of his head._

_"My children are so very young, and __Spain__ is so far away. What will become of them?" she was trying to maintain proper decorum but I could hear the edge of hysteria under her words, her heart was fluttering like a rabbit's, and her enaid like a tornado. _

_I took her hand giving it a gentle, encouraging squeeze. I could feel Mannwan tense behind me but I was more interested in reassuring her "I will see your sons safely to __Spain__ where they will be raised with your half-brother's young son."_

_I didn't voice the whole truth – I didn't need to she knew. She knew that since she had prove unwilling to be sacrificed body and soul to the needs of the House her sons would now be kept away from her in hopes that the belief that the House was all could take firmer root in them. She was afraid for her sons, afraid of what Philip would do with them when he was the paterfamilias of House Hapsburg. She had good cause to fear but it was not my place to meddle in dynol affairs. Her father snapped at her to return. Sandro started to follow her but the door was firmly shut in his face. He stared at it starting to turn yellow again._

_"Sandro?" That at least earned me the restoration of some of his normal greens. He liked that I knew which one he was. _

_"With all due respect your grace" Mannwan, as usual, had the 'I've just been force fed something that died six weeks ago look' you could see the anger and distaste in his opalescent enaid. "You have a task to accomplish."_

_'Which does not include mollycoddling mylin young' went unsaid but was clearly implied. With a little slight of hand I pulled a small toy out of the boy's ear. Nothing flashy but it was enough to distract him briefly. He frowned in confusion as he touched my hand to take my offering. Oh, but this one was sharp! If he survived the childhood diseases that decimated the dynol he would be one to watch. I'd have preferred to take him back to his nurses myself but Mannwan would likely have had a stroke. I glanced at Argellion who instantly volunteered to see the lad safely back to the nursery. Mannwan would have probably left the little lamb wandering the halls alone. Now – to work._

_ I flattened myself against the wall as the servant girls went giggling past. I wondered if one with the predominately mauve enaid knew she was with child yet? Blast Mannwan for deciding that I should do this not only without the benefit of Wind and Stone but without my Shadows as well. Damn petty of him. All because of a bit of kindness, so what if she wasn't an Ellyllon? I felt absolutely naked out here with my pointy ears, eyes, and true form exposed for all to see. I checked the hallway before sauntering down it. Generally speaking I was a firm believer in the principle that sneaking is the quickest way to get caught but given that I was likely to be declared a demon or worse on sight perhaps a little sneaking was in order. One more hall to traverse and then (hopefully) I should be within sight of my assignment. One more hall – one more very wide and heavily traveled hall. There! Perfect. 'Habits can be such wonderful things' I reflected as I bypassed the busy hall moving for the first time in days at **my** pace._

I lost the thread of things again in surprise. All those moments when Mallory had blurred past weren't a result of Mallory magically accelerating – they were just him moving briefly at **his natural pace.** For Mallory everyone else moved at an absolute crawl. I could have kicked myself as I looked back up at the illusion of young Mallory (or should that be Rhys?) picking the lock – how could I have let myself get so distracted? And more to the point how could I get back inside? Having no idea how I had to begin with I could hardly repeat the process. As Mallory would think - bugger. I glanced over at the still limp Mallory in the window casement and back at Elizabeth who was straining to catch his soft speech. I couldn't even hear him from here and I was only a few feet further away.

'_The regent really did need to invest in better locks' I observed to myself as I tucked my picks back in their place. I let my gaze sweep over the chamber planning the kill. Mannwan had ordered no less than five passes at normal pace and then I could finish matters as I saw fit. The quicker I finished this business the faster I could get on with **my** own plans for the day. I moved the room's only chair so that I was sitting with my back to the setting sun which was shining through the unshuttered window. I twitched the chair into a spot more balanced with the rest of the furnishings and then checked myself in the mirror. Perfect. I was rather looking forward to this trek across __France__ in spite of the tykes. No courts, no assassinations, no forge for Mannwan, weeks on horseback, and I'd get to see far more of the countryside than normal. I stretched – it sounded heavenly. Finally a key turned in the lock and my target sauntered in. Terribly full of himself. It was a shame really, you could tell by his enaid he didn't love the lady. She was just a conquest to brag about and she didn't love him. He just relieved the boredom of being married to a dynol old enough to be her grandfather. Now he would die for a lust, pride, and ennui. Ah, well, the reasons really weren't my concern, just the kill. I cleared my throat to get the idiot's attention. I hoped he was good in bed because she obviously hadn't picked him for his brains. He threw up a hand to block the sun and blinked owlishly at me. _

_"Who 're ye?"_

_"The Duke's vengeance" I whispered with as much menace as I could pack into my far too pretty soprano voice. It's not easy to be intimidating when you're only four feet tall and sound like a five year old._

_He outright laughed "He sent a bloody dwarf! She said his grace wasn't very well hung."_

_"No, not a dwarf" I sidled slowly out of the blinding sunlight._

_"Ye're naught but a child!" he protested and then paled when our eyes met and I let the Dragon within peer out at him. He crossed himself with shaking hands "Our Lady of Grace save me."_

_I tsked "I very much doubt it. You have been reveling in one of the seven deadly sins after all." I pulled my favorite dagger from its sheath without so much of as whisper of steel. I was probably far too fond of it but it was the only thing I'd ever crafted in the forge that Mannwan considered more than merely acceptable. He turned to flee but I put myself between him and the door. Honestly, running from a child – how droll. I grinned at him. He went even paler before pulling his sword. _

_"What would it take, demon, te have ye set yer sights elsewhere?"_

_"Too late" I hissed letting my long dagger slide along the length of his blade a coule and inviting in the third. He began his attack with a straight thrust to the high inside line. I would counter with a parry to fourth, eventually. I might have slowed my hands to everyone else's pace but nothing restrained my thoughts and they flew far faster than this fight could ever engage. Oh, bloody hell, my shipment of silk hadn't arrived yet. I'd been waiting **months** for it. Somehow I doubted Charles would consent to my lingering here another week. Perhaps I could convince Mannwan to leave one of the others behind to secure it? Unlikely. Was there a merchant I trusted enough to handle matters? With silk of the quality I was importing – hardly. That was **my** silk. I parried to fourth. He countered with a disengagement by feint clockwise to the high outside. Good move. Nice form. I would counter with a parry to third. That decided I returned to the far more troubling question. That silk and the velvets and fine lace I'd just received where to be the basis of my fall wardrobe. I parried third. His counter was the worst attempt at an internal flanconade I'd ever seen. I ought to kill him now just for being that sloppy. I loathed sloppy but Mannwan wanted five passes. I would cedeing parry back into third. This was so bloody boring. Maybe I could convince Guile de Nassau to send the silk on to __Spain__ after us. I simply could **not** do with out it. I cedeing parried back to third. He disengaged and attempted the high line again. I would counter with a parry to second just for a change of pace. With us traveling for most of the summer staying properly attired would be challenging. The matching of one delicate hue and fabric with another was certainly more entertaining than this chore. I parried to second. He appuntataed – well he did possess a touch of imagination. But this was my fifth pass. I would use the passata sotto for the kill. He never saw it coming. They never did. The kitchen lasses like to say that the fastest way to a man's heart is his stomach. I knew from extensive personal experience that it was six inches of folded steel up under the ribs. The only real trick to this was to get my hands out of the way fast enough that I didn't get bloody. No sense getting messy. He dropped to the floor with that look of horrified surprise still plastered on his face. I braced myself for the rush as the links between body and enaid ruptured. The fragmenting bits of his enaid wrapped around me briefly in something that was half-caress, half-attack, a strange mingling of pleasure and pain. An explosion of hopes and fears followed by silence. Then only the pale ghost remained endlessly repeating those last few actions. _

_ I set my hands on my hips and glanced down at the body. Pity about the carpet. I should have noticed before and made sure to draw him off of it before killing him. Ah, well, no sense crying over shed blood. I pulled his handkerchief free, cleaned the blood off of my dagger, and tucked it back in. I considered briefly moving the body. He was simply ruining the design of the room sprawled in that manner. It wasn't often you met a dying man with a sense of style and this one hadn't had one in life to begin with. I skirted the pool of blood and called the English breeze that I'd told to hide in this room ere Dirwyn had ejected Wind from the palace. It swirled around me petulant from the long, silent wait. I whistled a quite apology, pulled the candle I'd hidden up my sleeve out, and lit it with a thought. The sun was nigh to setting – maybe it would be late enough. I only had a half hour ere Mannwan came looking and he mustn't catch me at this. _

_ I let the Wind impart all it had heard to me whilst I searched the candle's flames. I scanned with my eyes for Chelsea Manor and those within its walls who were so dear to my heart and listened intently for their beloved voices in Wind's reports of __London__'s teeming streets. Mannwan would be furious if he knew I was even attempting this. I didn't want to grieve him but I missed them. Milady Latimer who was like a warm fire on a bleak and cheerless night, feisty Bess with whom I never failed to argue but with whom I could never seem to stay angry, and Jane my delightful scholar for whom I would face the hordes of her hell. Mannwan may have taken me out of the English court, forbidden me to write them, and burned their letters to me but there were other means of getting word. Candle gazing so far away was no easy task not because of the distance but the sheer number of flickering flames between here and there each one of which must be checked and discarded until my wandering eye should light upon the correct one. I pricked my ears as I finally detected Jane's voice in the Wind._

_"Why hasn't he written? Has he forgotten us?"_

**_Never_**_ I retorted at a whisper – I simply hadn't found a way to get my letters past my instructors' eyes. I would have to do better. I could hear the sparrows in the background and smell Milady Latimer's roses, lavender, and rosemary. One of her little parrots cawed and one of her greyhounds whined for attention. Her voice!_

_"Certainly not, undoubted the letters have merely gone astray" Milady replied. Now there was an understatement. _

_Bess sniffed disparagingly "All this fuss about Rhys. Has he caught your eye Jane?"_

_"He's a friend" Jane snapped back._

_Damn but I couldn't find the right flame. The sun hadn't quite set yet, mayhap it was too early and they were still out in the garden but if I waited until full dark Mannwan would be looking for me. I didn't just want to hear them – I wanted to see them. Wind brought me only sound no sight. Though, in truth, Fire would bring me sight with no sound._

_There!! They were inside – at least Jane and Milady Latimer though I could see no sign of Bess and Tom. I curled up on the chair with my chin on my knees and just stared into the flame less than half listening to Wind, simply enjoying the sound of their voices and the sight of them. Blissful contentment. Until I heard the flirtatious giggling. My head snapped up and I started scanning the flames for Bess. Oh, please Bess tell me you aren't. You couldn't be. Please, please don't be such a fool. For you it's only a game and undoubtedly you feel flattered by his attention but he's ambitious Bess. If you encourage him there's no telling what he might do. Damn it Bess think of Lady Latimer – it's her husband you dally with. I know you love her as much as I do. Please, please don't hurt her! I leaned forward as if proximity to the flame could actually help in my search for Tom and Bess. _

_Someone snuffed my candle._

_"You disappoint me, my prince."_

_I cringed in the chair. How could I have been so **monumentally** sloppy as to get **caught**?! I had set a cloi on the door but had overlooked Mannwan's habit of walking through stone. Idiot, imbecile, fool, moron! I was utterly disgusted with myself. _

_Mannwan knelt before me "Oh my Prince, you do not understand. And how could you being raised among beasts? You should be sequestered within the Citadel where your enaid would be kept pure. Your grandsire, the Glorious King, the Pendraig, has entrusted me with a task beyond my humble measure. Please my Prince you must not let me fail."_

_I shifted uneasily in the chair the desperate edge in Mannwan's voice and enaid was beyond disconcerting. "I will assist you in any way I can. Instruct me that I may understand." I could tell by his mien that I had once again spoken faster than anyone else's ears could follow. It was damnedably annoying when I did that. I made a conscious effort to speak more slowly as I repeated myself. _

_"My Prince, my Prince, one day you will be the Radiant One, Giver of Wisdom, Bringer of Life, you must be set apart and worthy. Pure in body and endaid. You must not sully yourself by becoming emotionally entangled with these animals among which you have been compelled to live. They are not worthy for even your glance to light upon – promise me you will not do this again."_

_"You have my word" – that I will not get caught again I finished mentally. I would give up an arm for Mannwan if it was required of me. But if his mission was to keep me from becoming entangled with the dynol his cause had been lost long ere he set foot in the Outlands for I would give far more than an arm for Milady Latimer. As I rose to leave Dirwyn released Wind and it howled joyfully around me._

I threw my hands over my ears and restrained an urge to scream. Sweet Jesus save me! Was that what Jack and Mallory heard all the time?

"You don't really believe we're animals – do you?" Elizabeth asked.

"Do you really believe the slaves are?" Mallory countered sitting completely upright for the first time since he'd curled up with the Sea. She immediately tried to pull him back down but he muttered something in El'lan and She reluctantly withdrew a bit.

I could see the "Of course they are" start to form and then remain unvoiced as she thought a bit more.

"No you don't" she said instead.

"I never have. I never will. A man born blind, deaf, and dumb is still a man. You don't have to worry about having children with beasts, you don't have to worry about them coloring your enaid. A question for you, milady. The skin of the African is darker, his hair is woolly, his nose broader, and his lips thicker that is the sum of the difference, correct?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"My ears are pointed, I have Dragon's eyes, blue hair, I see things you never will, hear things you never will, can do things you never will, and if I am not slain I will live to be over a thousand years old. If I can see common ground – why can't you?"

Elizabeth skirted the issue with another question "Do you think you're a god?"

"My people certainly think so" was the soft reply "I've not doubt in Avalon right now there are Ellyllon and cyfae risking their lives to pray for the Tywysogion am ein Gobaith to deliver them." He was staring out over the waves toward England, toward Avalon "And all I've managed to accomplish in twenty-six years is not getting recaptured."

"That has to be very disheartening."

He gave her mirthless smile "That, milady, may very well be the understatement of the year."

"If you think we're the same why do you call us dynol?" Elizabeth challenged.

He sighed "It is El'lan for mortal man in literal translation but by tradition it is usually reserved for the descendants of those who chose to reject the Dragon's Blood or those who have a trace of Ellyllon Blood in their viens. When I call you dynol milady I call you cousin and there is not another Ellyllon alive that would grant **you** that courtesy."

Elizabeth frowned "I don't understand."

"You are of the ymyrrwr, the interlopers. You have not a drop of Old Blood or Ellyllon Blood. If you were captured and taken as a slave you would be in the assigned the most menial and degrading of tasks. Your husband would hold a far higher place."

Elizabeth just blinked at him as if he'd ceased to speak English. Mallory had clearly just upended her world. Though it was odd to think of a world in which I would have a higher social standing than she.

"I'm sorry" he said looking at me.

Maybe he had stopped speaking English "For what?"

"For not giving you the sort of instruction you should have had. Mannwan should have been the one to train you."

"Would Mannwan have trained me?"

"Of his own volition? Probably not, but you are what **he** would have called dynol, Old Blood and with a trace of Ellyllon Blood. In Avalon you would be the equivalent of a quadroon. And your Gift would be much in keeping with his own. He would have been tempted to train you even if he never would have admitted it."

Elizabeth's wasn't the only world that got turned on its head.

"My what?"

A flicker of amusement "Didn't you ever marvel at just how quickly you took to the forge and the sword? You have a Gift. Very narrowly defined, very focused but within its bounds quite impressive. I am proud of what you have accomplished in spite of my bungling but you could have been much more if you'd had a Campwr daeru instead of a crippled Dysgwr daeru as your teacher."

"There was nothing wrong with your teaching" I stated firmly but he only shook his head in reply.

"Judge not that which you know not."

"I know that without you I would have learned nothing at all."

"Any port in a storm? Fair enough, I suppose, but it still should have been Mannwan."

Seeing that I wasn't going to change his mind I let the matter drop – for now.

"You kidnap people from their homes and families?" Elizabeth had clearly recovered from her earlier shock.

"Not personally, any more than you do, but yes, everyday in Ireland, England, Scotland, Brittany, or Wales someone disappears and awakes to finds himself a slave in Avalon. We're kinder to ours than you are though. We don't kill over a third in transit, we don't starve them, and we sometimes even let them go home. By our reckoning you Saxons and Normans are invaders and oppressors of our Old Blood brethren and as such are prime targets for a little justified retribution. My real challenge will not be freeing the slaves but convincing my people that their actions were unjust." He sighed and then coughed "But that is another topic – I should be answering Bill's question." He leaned back into the Sea's embrace "My silk notwithstanding, we departed the next day for Spain. Most of the trip was quite enough but a few memorable events did occur…"

_ Juan turned his blood bay so that it forced my black palfrey to dance out of his way._

_"She likes you" he said nodding toward one of the tykes' nurses who immediately blushed and giggled. This was a relatively new and damned annoying problem. I understood now why so many of my kind took on unattractive glamours for their travels among the dynol. But **I** had no intention of altering my appearance to be less aesthetically pleasing, the freckles were concession enough. Besides I'd wager a fair bit looking at her enaid that the 'maid' in question had far more interest in my wealth and station than in me. And even if I was old enough and she wasn't a gold digging leech she wouldn't be pretty enough to catch my eye anyway. _

I didn't know how Mallory could stand it. The air spoke, the ground spoke, the whole bloody world seemed to be shouting at the top of its lungs. Of course he was used to it and he seemed to just ignore it. Maybe that was the trick to it? I shook my head and slid back into things.

_At least I'd managed to get my silk. It had taken a fair bit of scheming and conniving but I had it. I sent a completely useless apology to the stag whose life had been the final sacrifice. The only way I'd managed to convince Mannwan to stay a few days while the merchant caught up was the promise of hunting a rare white stag. I'd personally been rooting for the stag but I could vouch that what Mannwan and his hounds hunted they caught. Venison for dinner tonight. Blah, I much preferred fish or fowl to red meat. I tensed as I felt unfriendly eyes on me. I turned my attention to Wind. Nothing was amiss downwind. Did I dare turn the Wind? If it was a dynol or just my imagination then it wouldn't matter but it didn't feel like dynol eyes. If I turned the Wind I would tip my hand. Gone. Maybe I was just flighty from last night's Wild Hunt. _

_"Aren't you going to talk to her?" Juan was practically panting. He was fifteen and worse than a bitch in heat. If it wore a skirt Juan wanted to lift it. If I believed in the Christian God I'd pray that I never act like this. Juan looked at me like I was mad and then urged his bay alongside the wagon. He wasn't nearly as popular but then he wasn't nearly as rich or as well dressed. If I were he I'd have my servants flogged for treating fine linen and worsted garments that way. I rolled my eyes and started to urge my palfrey past the flirting trio when little Sandro poked his head out a just blinked at me looking horribly yellow. Mannwan was over a mile ahead scouting our route so, on a whim, I pulled him out of the wagon and set him before me on my horse. His enaid sparkled like a star with brilliant flashes shooting off in all directions. He laughed in delight as I snaked one arm around his waist to keep him secure. In truth I wasn't that much bigger than he and actually lighter but I had the Grym a Driag, the Dragon's strength. I was already nearly as strong as an adult dynol. My instructors informed me that nearly all of House Pethalion had it but it was rare in the other Houses. Mannwan and Dirwyn were far stronger than I but none of the others could best me. I urged Charis to a canter and then a gallop before circling her back to the wagon. Sandro wrapped his little fingers in Charis' coal black mane refusing to be put back in the wagon so I settled us back at a walk alongside Juan and the giggling nurses. Both girls gave me adoring looks, just wonderful. _

_"I'll take Carlos, milord" one of the nurses offered. Sandro's brilliance dimmed a little and I wanted to smack the stupid wench. Couldn't she even tell her own charges apart?_

_"I don't mind keeping **Sandro**" the lad brightened back up._

_"Ye can tell them apart?" she cooed._

_How could you not? Even if they were identical to dynol eyes their personalities were night and day. Or more accurately Carlos didn't **have** a personality, eat, sleep, shit. He wasn't even trying to talk yet. Not that Sandro babbling away like a magpie in front of me was making a bit of sense either but he was trying. Speaking of which he was blinking up at me expectantly. I was supposed to answer that? I spoke more than a dozen languages with fluency and Wind carried voices in a hundred more to me and whatever it was that had just fallen out of Sandro's mouth didn't resemble any of them. He patted Charis' shiny black withers and looked at me again._

_"Charis" should I answer in the Italian he'd heard most of his life, the French of the land we were in, or the Castilian of land we were traveling to? I settled on Castilian "Her name is Charis. She's a four year old mare with a bit of Arabian blood. I brought her with me from __England__." He wouldn't understand a word of course but since this would be what he would be speaking for the next few years it was best that he start hearing it now. _

_The girls sighed. Juan grumbled something derogatory about scholars. I hadn't realized just **how** good an education I'd been getting in the English court until I'd traveled to __France__ and the __Netherlands__. Aschem had considered fluency in Greek, Latin, French, Italian, and English to be absolute minimum requirements and I had been reading in them for years. Then when I showed a knack for languages Aschem had cheerful piled Hebrew, Castilian, Portuguese, Flemish, and Dutch on my plate. When I'd rather scathingly inquired why I wasn't learning Turkish, Russian, and Polish I'd earned a caning and a search for tutors in those tongues as well. Conversely Juan had been shuffled around __Europe__ and spoke a half-dozen languages poorly as a result. Juan looked at the beaming Sandro and back at the girls and decided he'd show off a bit with Carlos the __Plum_

_He swung, or I should say attempted to swing, Carlos up in front of him but apparently the nurses had been more interested in making eyes at us than in caring for their charges. The poorly secured and full diaper came loose and tumbled down Juan who let out a positively girlish shriek which to my surprise actually got a reaction from Carlos who wailed in terror all out of proportion to the situation. The combination was too much for Juan's bay gelding who bolted. It took no horsemanship to tell Juan was already off center and both he and the toddler were likely to end up on the ground at best and under the horse at worst. I turned Charis and gave her her head. Always eager for a run she was off like a falcon easily overtaking Juan's stout hack. I dropped the reins knowing that Charis would obey my leg cues. I grabbed Carlos first in hopes that that would be enough to allow Juan to regain control but he was still just barely clinging on. No wonder he was such a poor jouster. Hadn't anyone ever taught him how to deal with this? Evidently not. Damn – how in hell did I assist Juan with my hands full of toddlers? I put Carlos in front of Sandro but my arm simply wasn't long enough to reach around both children. Sandro wrapped his arms around his still shrieking brother. Bright tyke. I left my right arm to secure Sandro, urged Charis even closer to the still plunging bay, wrapped a hand around his dangling reins and finally managed to haul him up. Juan crawled back into the saddle and then tried to embrace me. Not happening. What a mess. That was going to leave a stain. I sighed -bloody lovely. Right now Juan was merely overjoyed not to have ended up under the driving hooves of his bay but once he had a moment to think resentment would set in. He'd looked the fool. It was his own fault but that wouldn't matter. And there were the nurses to consider – they had already been far more interested in me than I wished and this would certainly do nothing to dissuade them. As a foreigner in __Valladolid__ I could ill afford the animosity of the only Castilian I knew. So how to restore Juan's dignity (a difficult proposition at best since he had so little to begin with) and make the girls more interested in him than me?_

_I queried Wind for Mannwan and the other's position before riding thoughtfully back toward the wagons. I pricked up my ears as the Wind (as usual) brought back far more than it had been asked for. Too much or not nearly enough that was Wind fore and aft._

_((It ain't our fault milord. Twas the wild hunt, what done it)) _

_In __Paris__ I could speak like a native here in the south I could barely understand the peasants and I had to give far more of my attention than I liked to understand what I was hearing. _

_((Please, milord, please have mercy. It was wild hunt. I swear twas.))_

_((Your rent and tithe on the harvest or…)) the chuckle that followed sent a chill up my spine._

_Oh, tripled damn, the wheat fields we'd hunted the stag across last night. This was my fault. All for my beautiful silk. I glanced at the wagons. Ah, perfect. I returned Carlos to his nurses for repackaging but kept Sandro in front of me. I checked Juan progress while I got my pennywhistle. Not my favorite instrument. Actually I didn't have a favorite instrument but Argellion had been badgering me for weeks to play more so this should please him. I turned Charis and rode back to a changed but very sullen Juan. Resentment was definitely starting to set in already. I played a quick tune and arched a brow at him._

_"I don't feel much like singing."_

_I didn't feel much like playing but it was important for the plan. So "I think the ladies would enjoy a song and you have the better voice."_

_That was a patented lie but Argellion would catch me if I did this with my own voice. But I didn't think he'd catch me if I used Juan's voice instead. Actually I wasn't really sure if this would work at all but if nothing else it should be interesting. Juan glared for a moment but when I started playing his favorite song he couldn't resist joining in. He did have a good voice, not nearly as good as mine but respectable, a nice, rich, and surprisingly deep baritone. I wove just the subtlest traces of magic into my playing and soon every female with in hearing was completely enchanted with him but every male but us was nodding. Timing, every plan relied on details and timing. Now. I hit a series of notes that set the horses to flight. The girls shrieked, the driver went backwards over the seat, and Juan kicked his bay forward. The wheel caught on a rock snapping the axel just as Juan caught the horses. Juan could now preen to his heart's content in front of the girls who were far more impressed with his heroics and singing than me. The broken axel would require us to pitch camp now so I could ride back as see what could be done about the trampled wheat without anyone the wiser. I AM GOOD._

_"Lord Tallyrand, a word if you please."_

_Or maybe not._

_I handed a very reluctant Sandro back to his nurse and road back to my coach where Argellion eyed me suspiciously. _

_"Would you please join me your Grace?"_

_I opted to slip through the window instead of dismounting. Charis, quite accustomed to my antics, didn't even flick one perfectly tapered black ear.. Argellion arched a brow at me as he set his chin on his finger tips "One does wonder what part you played in this fiasco."_

_I blinked at him innocently "Why would I?"_

_"Why indeed? Your word then that you did not cause this?"_

_Mannwan would never have asked a second time and if he was here I would be smoothing things over between my instructors, again. They were night and day and constantly clashing. Mannwan was so fixated with honor and with the sacred nature of House Penthalion that he couldn't even conceive of me lying. He was a warrior, a tactician, Master of Earth and the Wild Hunt and absolutely nothing else. Argellion was the consummate courtier, suave, sophisticated, a brilliant scholar and a gifted magician though he wasn't much of a horseman. He could ride, in theory, but it was best not to test it hence the coach. He was a cynic at the very least, a heretic at worse. One thing I knew, for all his careful words, Argellion didn't believe one iota in the holiness of House Pentalion. I did wonder from time to time why the King of Avalon had sent such an Ellyllon to be my instructor and then given two such diametrically opposed Ellyllon equal authority. It was a recipe for disaster and it was only a matter of time ere it finally came to blows. And that could only end in Argellion's death. Put a weapon in his hand and he was a danger only to himself nor were his magical skills the kind that would help him in a fight. _

_I wrapped an outer glamour around the coach and then dropped the one between us. "I had nothing to do with this."_

_Argellion for all his enthusiasm over my talents never suspected that I could lie to him like this. Lying well even to dynol took practice but between Ellyllon who saw enaids it was considered virtually impossible. Milady Latimer would be deeply distressed to know that not only could I lie convincingly with tongue, body, and eyes but with my very soul. I merely found it convenient. _

_He glanced out at the servants tsking over the shattered axel, "You had best send word ahead to Dirwyn to recall the others." _

_At my nod he continued "And let us return to our amseru work."_

_I nearly groaned. I didn't have any amseru abilities but all of my instructors insisted that I must. My argument that perhaps I had simply been born in cyflym amse, the double time, fell on deaf ears. According to them no one was born this way. Since I had no memories of NOT being trapped in cyflym amse it was assumed that I must have done it instinctively in, in there, to survive the same way I wove Shadows in ways the astounded my instructors. Therefore Argellion and Mannwan insisted that I spend **hours** with Blaenu without ever getting anywhere._

_Speaking of Blaenu he pulled his roan up right on cue, hitched him to the coach, and swung in without ever looking up at either of us sullen as hell. Of course in four years I'd never seen him crack a smile. I wondered idly without really caring what his real problem was but there was no shortage of possibilities. First he was a treiglad, a peasant with enough magic to rival Mannwan and Argellion both high ranking Lords of ancient Houses. Given that all social ranking in Avalon was based on magical strength that was a bit more than a serious faux pas. So youngsters like Blaenu got pulled out of their homes, made wards of House Penthalion who married them off at maturity to a noble House the potency of whose Blood was running thin. Given Blaenu's obvious preferences in bed no lady would please him but that wouldn't matter. Reason enough to be sullen but then there was the Gift that had taken him away from home and family. He was a Temporal Mage, Clairvoyance, Foresight, Prophecy, Visions, Double Time, Time Freeze, all of it. I didn't have a bit of it. I suppose I had to be deficient somewhere, though it was damned annoying. Not only did I not have the abilities but I couldn't seem to convince anyone else that they weren't there. Bugger. Of course looking at Blaenu I wasn't sure I wanted them anyway, foresight, prophecy and clairvoyance didn't seem to be making Blaenu very happy on the other hand the future wasn't written a good prophet could sometimes change the course of the history. Tempting as hell, really. Ah well time to cultivate another futile headache…_

_ I couldn't take Charis. She'd been picketed next Mannwan's damned hounds. There was no way I would be able to slip her away without them telling Mannwan. I'd have to take Gavin. Lovely, I'd be riding a seventeen hand white destrier at night. Best horse I'd ever ridden on the joust field but stealth was not his strong suit. I could cover with Shadows and Wind but the less needed the less of a chance for a slip and I couldn't afford for Mannwan to get the least whiff of anything being up. I wrapped a hand around his dark grey muzzle and shushed him. He blinked one dark eye at me and dropped obediently onto one knee so I could mount. I kicked him into a gallop revealing in riding bareback in the moonlight. I wanted to throw back my head crow but I didn't want to chance the hounds hearing it. It took effort not to stop Gavin. Those eyes were back. Hostile, watching again from upwind, it was definitely a predator of some type. Gone again, damn. I was being hunted and I had no idea WHAT was hunting me but it wasn't human. _

_ There were the wheat fields. It was too late to replant even if they had seeds too early to salvage any of the harvest. I slid down off of Gavin and walked to the hut curious what offering they had left to the Wild Hunt. Milk and bread. Well, the milk was useful. I closed my eyes and concentrated. I grinned down into the bowl at four perfect pearls. They weren't very big but anything too big would cause more harm than good. Now, the bread. I thought about it but if there was anything useful I could do with I didn't know what. I set the venison roast I'd saved for them down in its place and picked it up. Still warm. I sniffed. Smelled good. I took a nibble. Good, very, very good. Better than the stuff they served us in the courts. I asked a breeze to find me the recipe. I'd either learn nothing or I'd know more about this particular family than I **ever** wanted to but it'd be worth it if the lady of the house could cook like this. I stepped back out into the ruined wheat – what in hell was I going to do about this? Restoring crushed plant life was not exactly high on my instructors' priority lists. But I often taught them things – I didn't need them for this. I laid my palms on the ground and opened my Earth sense as far as it would go. Mannwan insisted that my problems with Earth weren't a lack of talent but that I simply went too fast for Earth to follow. Slow, slower, and a response. I brought water up from deep under ground to nourish the roots and filled in the deep holes the horses hooves had left in the field. Now the plants themselves – would my healing skills even extend to plants? One way to find out. I let my senses reach out and touch each blade. The ones that were healing themselves I bypassed, likewise those that were already dead, it was those that were failing that I touched, tentatively at first, but with more and more confidence as they began to respond. I pulled my senses back in, rocked back onto my heels, and surveyed my work. A fifth of the field was beyond saving but I'd set spells that would repel insects and summon the proper amount of rain that should offset most of the loss. Now I needed to find a way to make sure that they weren't accused of witchcraft. Eyes again. My hand dropped to my dagger as Blaenu stepped out from behind the hut._

_"Why?"_

_"I do not have to explain anything to you" I snapped back._

_"Please, my Prince, why?"_

_"Because it wasn't right that they should pay the price for my foolishness, I harmed them. It was my responsibility to make it right" I said head high._

_I had expected an argument. I hadn't expected Blaenu to fall to his knees weeping and belly crawl to kiss my feet. He was saying something but I couldn't understand it through the sobs. Well this was a new experience. I'd had men beg for their lives and Mannwan and company prayed to the current King at my feet since I was as close as they could get but not like this. Was there a proper response? Was Blaenu my hunter? And how was I going to smooth this over? It was tough to think with Blaenu slobbering all over my boots. Hey, I just had those polished! Some people might swear by spit-shines but I wasn't one of them. I nibbled my lip. I really did need to break that nervous habit it undoubtedly looked foolish._

_"We need to get back."_

_He nodded still unable to speak and knelt so I could step on him to mount. A simple boost would have been sufficient. He mounted his own roan and kissed the boot print on his doublet. Alright, this could get awkward. Hostile eyes again, upwind, not Blaenu, and not at all good. _

Mallory shifted a bit in the window casement and I found myself blinking at the darkness, except I knew now that the night wasn't dark for Mallory. It was different from the day in that it had far less color but he still saw clearly.

"I rode back with one hand on my dagger but nothing happened that night or for the next three but then Mannwan assigned me the last mark he ever gave me…."

_This was stupid. This was **monumentally** stupid. I stopped in the middle of the path. I wasn't going to do it. This man hadn't done a damn thing to me. Well, come to think on it the other 203 people I'd killed hadn't done anything to me either but they'd done something to **someone** that was sufficient to merit a kill. But not this man. He was just a peasant chosen at random from a crowd this morning. Apparently the current King of Avalon had decreed I was to kill at least once a month and since Mannwan didn't have someone picked the poor peasant farmer in the hovel down the lane was the unlucky chosen one. This was, was **wrong** which really did bring up the question had any of my kills been right? I dismissed the past which couldn't be altered and turned my attention resolutely to the future. No more, no more killing for no better reason than 'so and so says so'. It ended. Tonight. Easy to say out here in the fields, not so easy to say to Mannwan back in the manor. I felt my resolve waver. The hair on the back of my neck rose under a hostile gaze. My hunter was back. I let my eyes rove over the ground. I knew whatever it was wasn't in the little stand of trees off to my left. They would at least provide a bit of cover. I began ambling casually in their direction when a sound I never, ever wanted to hear again split the night, the sound of a young child screaming for me in absolute terror._

_For just an instant I had a flash of dark green hair and silver eyes and I nearly bolted but I mastered myself this wasn't the angheuol and it wasn't **Her**. Then I got look at what was chasing Sandro and rather wished it was **Her**. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the little fishes in the Sea – a mardeth. By the Draigs what was a mardeth doing in southern __France__? Sandro wailed for me again and I didn't even think I just raced back, scooped up the tyke, and took off. What the in the name of all that's Holy was I going to do against a monster big enough to toss Gavin around? And even with my speed I wasn't going to be able to out run that thing especially caring a child that weighed more than I did. We needed cover and we needed it **NOW**! _

_I slid through a wild rose bush sheltering Sandro as best I could from the thorns. We dropped about ten feet to land in a shallow creek at the bottom of the ravine. My left ankle snapped and I dropped my favorite dagger. Damn bird bones! Mannwan could call it an honor to have dragon's bones all he liked he wasn't the one whose bones broke at the drop of a proverbial hat. While I was healing my blasted hollow bones I asked Earth to let us in. Running did rankle but it beat being eaten alive any day. Earth responded in its slow, unwieldy way with a questioning sensation. I repeated the request. I didn't have **time** to wait for Earth to puzzle things out I could hear the mardeth crashing through the trees. Finally a tiny gap opened – not big enough for us both. I stuffed Sandro in it and took off running through the trees. The mardeth swung its heavy head back and forth seeking me. Could mardeths see through Shadows? Argellion and I hadn't exactly spent a lot of time on the fauna of Avalon. If I survived tonight that would change. I was also going to up my thrice weekly five mile run to at least ten. I sent a Shadow of myself running between its great scaly legs and wrapped myself in darkness. It glanced down and then came directly at me. I could distract but not escape using Shadows. Alright, I dodged left leaving the beast's great maw snapping nothing but air. I needed a plan. Don't get eaten. That wasn't a plan that was a goal. Plan. I really needed a plan. Duck, roll, and the maw snapped again where I had been. Plan, plan, plan. I firmly pushed away the panic I could feel creeping up on me – panic only gets you killed. There was a limit to how long I could dodge this thing – eventually it was going to get lucky. How not to get eaten? Either out run it, unlikely since it was bigger than me and it could fly or kill it. Maybe I needed a third option. As I bolted past a briar patch I crafted a Shadow of myself over it and it over me. This time the mardeth took the bait. The expression in its eyes as the thorns sank into its tongue was priceless. I promised myself a good laugh about it later if I survived. Mardeths were intelligent – right?_

_"Good evening fair gentle, might we discuss this like civilized beings?"_

_The mardeth glared at me and spat several rose canes "No."_

_Yes, well, I probably should have tried the polite route before tricking it into chewing on a rose bush. Live and learn, though it had been a bit sloppy of me. I should have thought of talking first._

_"Oh great and glorious one will you not even favor me with your name before you devour a poor bony creature like myself?" _

_I dodged three more strikes. I was faster but with that long neck it didn't have to move anything but its head. Somehow I had the sinking feeling I was going to tire long before it did. _

_"Will you not at least tell me what I have done to earn your enmity? Surely there are juicier morsels to be found hereabout?"_

_Not much for conversation then. I sent another plea to Earth only to get more confusion in reply. Sea offered to come but She would drowned half of southern __France__ only to rescue a corpse. Fire was always my best weapon but the mardeth's scales made it impervious to it. It struck again and I knew even as I turned that I'd zigged when I should have zagged. Great teeth each one longer than I was tall closed in like a palisade around me and its raspy tongue pinned me against the ridges of its mouth so hard I felt at least one rib snap. Ye gods, now I knew why my people swore by Dragon's Breath what an ungodly reek. I was going to have to burn these clothes. When it finally threw its head back to swallow me I twisted to the side sliding down along the gums, grabbed the edge of the lip, vaulted up onto its head and ran to the back of its neck. _

_Not bad for improvising it couldn't reach me up here. A glob of slobber ran down into my eye. How utterly disgusting I was drenched in mardeth spit. I sniffed. Ugh. The mardeth finally realized that I'd relocated and shook its head. These scales were far too slick to keep a firm grip on. I pulled two of my daggers and slipped them up under the scales and into the skin beneath. Oh but it didn't like that. It launched itself off the ground and suddenly we were plunging through the air. The mardeth's **scales** protected it from fire, at least according to Argellion, but my fingertips wrapped around my daggers' hilts were touching **flesh.** I'd teach this overgrown lizard a lesson. I called Fire in a way I never had before. It roared around me and through me and the mardeth screamed in agony and this time I did laugh. It spiraled up and dove like a falcon straight for the trees. It was going to try to scrape me from my perch. I slid up and tucked myself in the shelter of its ear as the branches lashed by. Juan would have been on his ass. With it whipping and plunging through the air I couldn't get my fingers far enough under the scales to reach flesh and Fire did indeed slide right off its scales. _

_It settled to earth, coughing, wheezing, and spewing something dark. I needed to finish this. My fingers keep scrabbling against the scales and I didn't want to chance sliding back down to where my daggers were still embedded in its flesh. I reached out with my ichae seeking for a weakness I could exploit, something, anything before this monster slew me. A-ah, a major vein just barely under the skin and only lightly protected by the scales under the jaw, now how did I get there? The mardeth was hurt but not mortally. It wasn't going to just let me sit here and it certainly wasn't going to let me at its throat willingly. Maybe if it thought I was getting off? I had to slide down its neck to reach the vein anyway. Timing and details. At moments like these I almost wished I did believe in a god of some sort. It would have been nice to have something to pray before doing something this ill-conceived. I pulled out two more daggers thankful at least that I was in 'working' mode otherwise I'd have long since run out of them. I ripped a strip off the bottom of my tunic and sealed it to the dagger's hilt._

_I used the daggers to slow my progress a bit down the slick scales and at the opportune moment dug one of them in deep so that I could swing up under the jaw. I angled the second dagger as I plunged it in between the much softer scales of the throat so that it would provide me a firm hand hold as I dangled rather dangerously under the mardeth's jaw. A second dagger followed the first so that I had two possible points of contact. All accomplished so quickly that as yet the mardeth hadn't had time to react. I braced myself as I tried to catch my breath – maybe that ten mile run should become a daily thing? Of course the broken rib wasn't helping any either but I didn't want to spare the time to fix it. I yanked my last dagger out of its sheath and plunged it with all my remaining strength through the thin scales. The mardeth's violent reaction seemed immediate but it was undoubtedly only now reacting to my earlier actions. Regardless I had very little time. It whipped its head from side-to-side so vigorously that I was forced to abandon the attack and just cling to the daggers embedded hilt deep in the fleshy portions of its neck. I tried to cling with my legs as well but even a lifetime of bareback riding wasn't enough against the serpentine motion and the slippery scales. It paused for an instant and as it charged forward I dug the dagger in nearly the length of my arm. So close. Just an inch more and it would spill its life's blood on the fields of __France_

_The mardeth flung its head up as it slammed into a tree trunk letting me take the brunt of the impact. The oak behind us groaned in protest and then snapped along with what felt like damn near every bone in my body. My numbed hands fell limply way from my daggers. Sloppy, very sloppy, to not check what my opponent was doing. Sloppy gets you killed. I tried to catch my breath and brought up nothing but blood, enough to drown in. I was a bit confused as the mardeth reared back that I didn't slide right down to the base of the trunk. Oh, I was impaled on a broken branch. Well, that explained it. If my back hadn't been broken in several places it would probably hurt like the dickens. 'Every cloud has a silver lining' someone used to say. I wondered who. I really did wish I could catch a breath but one lung was collapsed and the other was more than half full of blood. I should probably do something about that. The mardeth was about to eat me – I should be doing something about that too. Damned if I knew what though. Everything seemed rather distant and unimportant at the moment. Probably the shock of slamming so hard into the tree, oaks were very solid after all. Poor oak I hadn't meant to kill it. I meant to kill the mardeth. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. Not smart but suddenly I was very aware of just how hurt I was and just how much I DID NOT intend to be mardeth meat. The body was broken but there was still power left in my enaid. I could fix this and ride the lists again with that overgrown lizard., besides the mardeth was bloodied too. _

_As it started to strike I burned the branch to ash sending a great ball of flame into its face and dropped to the ground rolling. I kept the fire balls shooting at odd intervals while scattering Shadows of myself in every direction. It wouldn't last long but I needed a couple of minutes to put myself back together. Nothing quite like hiding in, or rather under, the belly of the beast. I just hoped he, boy was he a he, didn't need to take a leak. Oh, sweet Jesus, I was better off with the broken back, numbness and immobility were underrated. Not a sound, not a sound, not a sound, if I so much as whimpered I was dead. Just like with Her. I hated this. Deep** quiet** breaths, survive now, panic later. I said panic **later**. I intentionally flooded my system with painkillers and adrenaline. I knew from experience I would pay for it later but that was then this was now. I still needed a plan. I laid my head against the ground and petitioned Earth one more time. Nothing but more confusion. Earth wanted to help it just couldn't figure out what I needed. Evidently 'let me in' was far more complex a concept than I'd ever thought. Just me and the monster again, why was it every time I got bigger so did the monster? I gave myself another shake - time to plan. Don't get eaten still sounded pretty good too bad it wasn't a plan. Fire would only work if I got my fingers against flesh and I didn't have any daggers left. I was down to garrets, throwing knives, and my pint sized crossbow none of which could pierce the mardeth's scales. Of course I could always try the old 'shoot it through the eye' thing. I nearly snorted in amusement. Robin Hood I was NOT. I had a hard enough time hitting targets that didn't move. Alright if fight was out it was time for flight._

_No point in running until the opportune moment though. While I had the time I concentrated on making sure everything vital was in working order. I left the welts, bruises, scratches, and other minor injuries, no sense wasting power on them. I sent Wind to scout the ground, I didn't want to trip at the wrong moment and maybe I could trick the mardeth into doing something fatal. Not likely but nothing ventured nothing gained. Now. I bolted using Wind's reconnaissance to maximize my use of cover. The mardeth moved more slowly now. His breathing labored from my attack with Fire and his throat slick with blood. I hadn't managed a mortal blow but I'd come so close. He was also limping. He must have injured it against that poor oak tree. He snapped at me almost desperately. I dodged – why was he so determined? I'd proven I wasn't easy prey so why was his still stalking me? I scrambled up a tree hoping to get back onto his neck. My daggers were still there if I could get one of them and make another strike at his throat it would be all over. He charged the tree snapping viciously. It swayed violently and I was forced to jump. Damn. I rolled under his belly and started running again when something stuck me in the back. I was lifted off the ground and flung at his feet. Damn you Argellion, you never mentioned the **spikes** on the tail. He mauled me with the uninjured leg. I tried to move but it was over. Game, set, match. I couldn't even summon Fire. Run dry in body and enaid. I was choking on blood again. Twice in one night. I tried to connect with Earth again, nothing. Even Wind was just a whisper and Sea was a distant wail. They sounded upset. I hoped they didn't kill anyone. I couldn't seem to make either of them understand about storms and drowning. I didn't want to be eaten. Milady Latimer was so fond of Galatians 6:7 'As a man sows so shall he reap'. I left my sister to be eaten by Her now it was my turn. I think he was grinning as he reared his head back for the final strike. I closed my eyes. Cowardly, but I didn't want to watch that great maw coming for me in slow motion when there wasn't a thing I could do about it. Maybe it was time to panic? A dog yelped. What?_

_I cracked one eye open just in time to see the mardeth end up with a mouthful of one of Mannwan's dogs instead of me. Dragon's breath the look on his face. If my lungs hadn't been full of blood I'd have laughed. Well, who'd have thought it - dogs are good for something. Maybe the mardeth would eat the whole stinking pack. That wouldn't please Mannwan though – he did dote on his dogs. It was one of his few faults. I was babbling. It didn't actually make it hurt any less but it was sort of distracting. Actually it did hurt less and I was getting cold. Creeping, icy fingers, strangling, silencing, choking. The mardeth spat out the dog in disgust, I guess he didn't like them either, and turned right into Mannwan's lance. If I could have breathed I'd have crowed. Mannwan had taken me away from Her, now he would keep the mardeth from eating me. Too bad it was too late to keep him from killing me. Pity I was the only healer. My eyes were drying out. How peculiar I didn't seem to have the strength left to blink them. Earth trembled under pounding hooves. The others were coming. Good, hopefully no one else would get hurt and they'd kill that damn mardeth. The moon and stars were pretty but they seemed dimmer as if they'd slipped further away somehow. Odd, since they'd never actually been close. Fading, falling, something else on the edges of my vision, sounds I'd never heard before whispering for my attention. _

_"Oh my Prince" Argellion. A touch, a bit more focus, as if I'd been pulled back from elsewhere. That was good, there was something important I had to tell him. What was it? I couldn't seem to recall. He sounded very green but then he was green, a deep rich green like the finest emerald but sparkly like the fieriest diamond. He sounded as ill as Mannwan had on the Channel crossing. Dragon's teeth but Mannwan was the worst sailor I'd ever seen. Could you get seasick horseback riding? It was hard to think and I could barely make out the moon. I was so cold. He pulled me onto his lap. I think my intestines were slipping out, odd sensation that. Oh that's why he sounded so nauseous. He was such a dandy, a little blood and he went all to pieces. He was warm though, warm was nice. It was **so** cold. There was something I needed to tell him. Something important. Sandro! I'd left him in the gap. He couldn't climb out by himself. If someone didn't find him then he was as good as buried alive. I tried to speak but Argellion didn't seem to hear me. I had to make him understand. I'd promised his mother he'd reach __Spain__ safely. I'd promised. I gathered all of my remaining strength and tried again. He nearly jumped out of his skin and dropped me. Lovely, the only thing on my entire body that hadn't hurt **had **been my head. Wouldn't want it to feel left out of the fun now would we? Of course not. Idiot._

_He touched me again but it was different this time, like I was sinking into the emerald instead of resting against it._

_"Come on, damn it, do something" he snapped all but shaking me. I blinked at him and then realized what he'd done. I didn't know you could do that. He'd linked his enaid to mine giving to me of his own strength. _

_"I can support you but I'm not a healer, lad, you've got to do the work."_

_Who did he think he was to address me so familiarly? He was certainly right about NOT being a healer. I tried. I did. But nothing wanted to work. He lacked things I needed. I did at least manage to get the bleeding to stop. Too little, too late. _

_"Blaenu" Argellion bellowed and suddenly I had two sets of Gifts to choose from. It was still slow hard going but bit by bit I fixed the worst of it and lay panting and shivering in Argellion's lap. I left the strained muscles, torn tendons, broken bones, bruises, welts, and lacerations. They weren't worth the effort. The mortal wounds were healed, the rest could wait. Argellion wrapped me in his cloak. I started to protest that I would ruin it smothered as I was in both the mardeth's and my own bodily fluids. But he just kept wrapping me in it any way and it was warm. So warm, and I was still so cold. I wanted a bath, a nice **hot** bath, with the water perfumed… Argellion pulled me in so tight against his breast that it hurt all those things I hadn't fixed. It hurt and now I was probably ruining more than just his cloak. I hoped it wasn't the emerald and pearl outfit. I liked that one best. It would be a shame to stain it. Odd, I'd never let anyone hold me before, not even Milady Latimer. It hurt and yet it felt ..good too. Like an anchor in a storm catching and holding me here instead of there. Where ever there was. And he was **warm **and I was still so terribly, terribly cold. Blood loss and shock, a distant part of my brain informed me. That too would fade. Now that the fight was over I just wanted to be clean. I stank. No, stank wasn't strong enough, I absolutely reeked. I didn't know how Argellion could stand me. Mayhap Mannwan would know the location of a hotspring? _

_I dozed for a bit still huddled against his warmth and dreaming of baths until the pounding of hooves roused me. I pushed desperately up. I **HAD** to be on my feet when Mannwan got here. It was shameful enough that I'd needed to be rescued but to be caught being coddled like a baby?! I shuddered and it had nothing to do with being cold. I might dress like a fop but **I** wasn't one. I was a Prince of Avalon, descendant of Kings I was NOT going to be caught napping by my Master of Arms. It hurts, cold. The cloak was ridiculously large and it pooled around my feet like wax from a melted candle. I felt a bit like a melted candle, truth told. But I was loath to give it up and not just because I was still freezing. The spirit was willing but the flesh was trembling. The cloak helped to mask my weakness. I tilted my aching neck up to meet Mannwan's stern gaze. Or at least I hoped I was meeting it there were too many spots dancing before my eyes to be certain. That and the world was spinning most disconcertingly. I'd have asked it to stop but Earth and I hadn't been communicating terribly well tonight. The Christian God alone knew what might happen. I hurt, everywhere and yet not as I should. It was as if body and mind weren't quite connected. I struggled to keep my blinking to a regular pace, details, details if nothing else it was a good distraction from just how injured I still was. Cold, icy cold. Skeffington should invest in a mardeth because none of his toys even came close._

_"Did you eliminate your mark? _

_This was not the condition I would have chosen to get into a major confrontation with a touchy master tactician. I could only conclude that fate had decided that I was in severe need of a character building episode. Cold, why was I still so cold?_

_"No, nor shall I" at least I managed to sound like I wasn't about to collapse even if words sounded as if they were echoing back from across a chasm._

_Dead silence. That probably wasn't a good sign. I wished I could make out anything through the spinning spots._

_"The King has decreed"_

_"that I should kill at least one person per month beginning in my fifth year" I cut him off "which by my calculations is 110 kills as of today. I have made 203 which means that I could go seven years and nine months without killing anyone and remain within the mandates of the decree. This kill would have neither purpose nor honor and I shall not make it. When you find a mark worthy of my attention then I shall submit to the King's will." I hoped it took him a bit to reply because that little speech had left me discretely gasping for breath and shaky. Suddenly there was a touch of Wind and I couldn't see. Not that I **had **been able to see but what little sight I had through the hazy, spinning spots was gone except I could still see the spots. Oh, Wind had blown the hood over my face. Now that simply would NOT do. It was much too undignified. The cloak simply had to go. Just not quite yet. _

_"I bow to your wisdom, my Prince."_

_My jaw nearly dropped but I caught it in time. Princes of the Blood simply do not gawk like moon-struck peasants. Not that it would have mattered, no one could see my chin through the hood over my face. It hurts, cold, faded. Umm, I should probably be saying something courteous but most of my wits seemed to have scampered off. Terribly inconvenient I rather hoped they returned soon. Speaking of things left behind I felt nearly naked without my daggers._

_"Did you happen to retrieve my daggers when you slew the mardeth?"_

_There was a long, awkward silence. I tossed my head to flip the hood back. That may very well have been my worst move of the entire night. It took everything I had to remain standing and not scream as surprisingly sharp pain radiated in waves through my entire frame. Not a whimper, not a flinch, not in front of Mannwan._

_"The mardeth eluded us." I couldn't possibly have heard that correctly._

_"Would you kindly repeat that?" I inquired in English. El'lan might be the language of my people but I'd been raised on English. Mannwan undoubtedly had that 'swallowed a spider' look again at my use of a dynol tongue amongst Ellyllon. Why did it seem like there was a veil between me and everything else?_

_"We didn't kill the mardeth because it flew away."_

_Oh lovely, so the big overgrown lizard was now circling us waiting for the opportune moment to eat me. It hurts. So cold. I needed a bath, a bed, and to collect Sandro. Though not in that order, as much as I'd like them to be in that order, and I wasn't getting any closer to any of them standing here shivering. It hurts. _

_"Then we'd best remove ourselves to a more secure location." I turned. It hurts. And had to restrain a sigh. Gavin, why did they have to bring Gavin instead of Charis? Normally the sixteen inch difference in their heights didn't matter. I could mount either of them bareback, in full armor, at a gallop if necessary but normally every muscle and tendon in my body wasn't battered, bruised, and torn. Gavin had been steadier on his feet the morning he was foaled than I was now. Why was everything still so distant and hazy?_

_"Blaenu" Argellion ordered "help him up."_

_"Why should a Prince of the Blood require assistance?"_

_"Not now, Helwyr Mannwan, not tonight" Argellion snapped back._

_"And shall the boy become like you, a petted dandy?" Mannwan snarled._

_I tuned both of them out. They could go on for hours and I had no stomach for it tonight. I let the ruined cloak slip to the ground and mustered myself. The real trick to lying well is to believe it yourself in the instant you tell it, that's how you lie all the way to your soul._

_I turned Gavin with my knees and kicked him into a gallop leaving the whole pack of them behind. I slowed him reluctantly to let the other rider catch up. I'd expected Mannwan or Dirwyn not Argellion. I felt a flicker of sympathy for his mount. I'd seen sacks of grain that had a better seat. It was dandies like Argellion that gave us fops a bad name. He was an embarrassment on horseback and I was glad there was no one but my instructors about to see him. It hurts, cold. A second horse drew alongside._

_"Why do we ride away from the manor, my Prince?" Mannwan inquired while Argellion just clung to his mount's mane looking almost as miserable as I felt._

_"I know where one of my daggers fell, I wish to fetch it ere we return" I retorted. How far had we flown? How much further? By the moon's position we hadn't ridden long but each time Gavin's hooves struck the ground was an agony far worse than an hour on the rack. Gavin slowed and flicked his ears back, worried. I slipped more than once but Gavin shifted under me keeping me from falling. He wanted to stop but I urged him on. I patted his neck encouragingly but I knew I couldn't fool him. We knew each other far too well. I'd bred him, trained him, and ridden him in the lists for almost three years. My horse knew good and well just how hurt I was. And he wanted me off his back and in my stable. Hurts. _

_"A good **warrior** always looks after his weapons" the grudging nod of approval was for me but the barbed words were for Argellion. For just one night I wished they would stop fighting over me like Mannwan's freakish hounds over a bone. Hurts. Truth told the dagger could rot, I was here for Sandro. Hurts. If it had been Carlos in that hole promise or no promise I'd have left him but not Sandro. How the blazes was I going to get him without Mannwan seeing? Normally I'd just wrap him in Shadow but I wasn't even sure of my ability to manage that right now. And I wasn't up to the explosion that would follow if Mannwan discovered that I'd run **towards** the mardeth to save a boy he considered no more than an animal. Or even worse another lecture on the responsibilities and requirements of being a sacred god-king. How much further? I desperately wished I could just entrust this to one of the others but none of them would place the value on Sandro that I did. Hurts. Wind whispered we were here. Through my hazy vision I saw the rose bush I'd slid through with Sandro. Thank you, thank you, thank you – who was I thanking?_

_"Would you be so good as to keep watch?" I inquired of Mannwan who nodded gravely and rode back to the clearing. One hurtle down, now I just had to get off Gavin, get Sandro back out of the pit, get us both back on Gavin, keep the boy hidden, get back to the manor, and sooth any ruffled feathers. Hurts. I didn't want to get off Gavin. He was warm. One impossible task at a time, getting off Gavin sounded fairly straight forward until my legs wouldn't hold me. I slid down his foreleg as he nickered and lipped my hair. Great, horse spit to go with the mardeth spit. I'd didn't even want the bath anymore I just wanted to be able to let myself be unconscious. Odd that it didn't seem to matter to me that I was on my ass in front of Argellion, again. But then Argellion didn't expect me to be a god. Those weren't Argellion or Mannwan's knees in front of me. My hand automatically dropped grasping for weapons that were currently still annoying the mardeth. Oh, those were Blaenu's knees. I hadn't even noticed that he'd joined us, sloppy that. It seemed to be my night for it. I wondered where Dirwyn and the others were. Wind brushed my face bringing with it the sound and smell of the stream. I pushed past Blaenu with a sudden desperation and plunged my face in the water sucking it down desperately. In my haze I hadn't realized just how dehydrated I was. And though this trickle was far from the Sea She still sent a thread of Her power up it. I didn't raise my head until Wind brought me another sound – the sound of a child weeping. I felt a touch of shame I should have gotten Sandro first. I rose my mind clear for the first time since the mardeth started mauling me in earnest. The aches and pains were undiminished but they would fade in time and I dismissed them. I started towards the pit but Blaenu stood before me._

_"My prince" he offered me my dagger. It wasn't until I tried to sheath it that I took my first look at the rags I was wearing. The rents were sobering. Since I didn't have a single sheath left I handed it back and stepped around them making a shushing motion as I did. The pit wasn't very big or all that deep but Sandro had balled himself up in a corner and was so yellow it was hard to believe that wasn't his normal coloring._

_"Sandro" I whispered as I laid myself flat on the ground and offered him my right hand. In my earlier daze I hadn't even realized that my left shoulder was completely out of joint. I'd have to get Mannwan to pop it back in later. Between that and the two breaks it was essentially useless. The right though battered and bruised was perfectly functional and more than enough to do the job. Sandro went instantly blue and lunged for my hand. The moment he cleared the edge he tackled me clinging desperately and babbling hysterically. His hard little head plowing into my broken ribs hurt like the Christian Hell but I laughed anyway as I tried to calm him. That hurt worse but I didn't stop. I made sure that Wind was bearing the sound away from Mannwan and toward the mardeth as he flew north, back to Avalon. I didn't know if he could hear Wind but I hoped so and I promised myself that one day I would finish our fight but for right now it was long past time for a bath. Blaenu was giving me that look again. To forestall a repeat of the other night I quickly remounted Gavin. My broken ankle was less than overjoyed with the maneuver but I still didn't have the strength to spare for such matters. _

_Blaenu looked as if he might weep if I didn't let him help so I graciously allowed him to settle Sandro in front of me and to wrap us both in Shadow. He wasn't nearly as good as I was. No one was. But it would do for now. I think I preferred the sullen Blaenu to the one before me. For Dirwyn and the others the worship of House Penthalion was mere rote, pure hypocrisy for Argellion, Mannwan had wrapped it up in that honor thing of his but with Blaenu it had suddenly become something different, focused, fervorant, intimate. The last was even more disconcerting given Blaenu's preferences. I'd salvaged a wheat field **I** was responsible for wrecking and I'd given Sandro the hole that I might have gotten myself into but never both of us. Neither of which in my reckoning made me worthy of the zealot's light blazing in Blaenu's eyes. Zealot's made me nervous. Another problem for another day I decided uneasily as I kicked Gavin into a gallop. _

_ As I allowed our host's servants to take Gavin I reflected that while he was everything I had bred him to be, loyal, intelligent, powerful, and beautiful he did not have the smoothest of gaits. I hadn't considered it terribly important but after riding several miles with multiple broken bones I'd come to the conclusion that it had been a major oversight on my part that I would begin rectifying the moment I returned to my English estates. If I was ever allowed to go back to them. Suddenly standing in this French courtyard I was caught by a longing so intense it overwhelmed all of my aches. This was not **my** land. It wasn't that this land rejected me as such. It was still upset that it couldn't figure out what I wanted but it wasn't MY land. I wanted to be where the ground beneath my very feet knew and acknowledged who and what I was. I wanted to fight with Bess, translate Greek with Jane, breath in the scent of the herb garden under **my** window while watching **my** sparrows flutter in and out of it, and more than anything else to curl up at Milady Latimer's feet. I wanted to go **HOME.** And I wondered what had become of my sparrows. If I had kept hawks or something exotic someone else would have taken them but my little sparrows had undoubtedly been thrown back out in the cold. There was an awkward moment as Blaenu tried to peel Sandro off me without Mannwan noticing. I really did need to teach the tyke to talk. I wondered if the argument that erupted between Mannwan and Argellion was genuine or just Argellion distracting him. I felt the last of the resentment for his earlier betrayal slip away. _

_"Milord" I tried to push the longing away and give Dirwyn my attention "a bath has been prepared for you." A few minutes ago it was what I wanted most now it was a pale shadow compared to my desire for home. I ignored the argument behind me as I did NOT limp on the broken ankle. I want to go **HOME**. I nearly stopped in the corridor. Was I whining?! I was a Prince of Avalon. I DO NOT WHINE. Not even to myself. Whining was useless. I merely needed find a way to get home. Time for another plan, tomorrow. _

_An alabaster bath room, beautiful but cold. There was no need to undo my laces I merely slipped out through the gaping holes. I pulled one of my little throwing knives out and started carefully slicing the threads on the left boot. Miraculously they'd come through all this intact and they were my favorite pair. The only reason I hadn't had to hop down the hall was that the boot was still holding the wreckage together. I was hoping to be in the tub before Mannwan came in for a report. The truth was I didn't really remember how my ankle had been broken a second time and I was perfectly happy leaving it at that. But Mannwan would want to review every move and by the time we were done I would remember in full detail the origin of every injury down to the least scratch. And I would be treated to a prioritized list of all the things I'd done wrong. Oh, it would be said with the utmost respect but it would still come down to me not living up to expectations, again. I had to stop for an instant to let a wave of weakness pass. I could see Mannwan's point, I could, but I'd never been so thoroughly handed my ass in my life and I was deeply ashamed. My life had been saved twice over tonight, once by Mannwan and then by Argellion. I didn't want to relive tonight, to examine what the mardeth had done to me. I didn't. Mannwan swept through the door right on cue._

_ I drew as deep a breath as I could with the broken ribs and braced myself for the inquisition. It had been a nasty argument I could still see the anger in the set of his shoulders and the way he was playing with the hilt of his sword. He came to a dead halt staring at the ragged remnants of my clothes. The alabaster certainly revealed how little was left. I'd been riding around the countryside more than half naked. And while I preferred black for killing because it hid blood stains best there was no hiding the layers of blood caking it and me. He finally turned from the rags and stared me. I dropped my eyes to my boot and went back to trying to cut it off my ankle without actually doing it any actual damage. He made quick work of the remaining stitches._

_"I don't need to be pampered. I'm not Argellion." I snapped and winced inside. I sounded shrewish at best and whiny at worst. _

_"Of course not" he gave me a formal bow._

_"I'm sorry."_

_He sighed long-sufferingly "Princes do **not** apologize."_

_"This one does when he has been unspeakably rude. Thank you for my life."_

_"My Prince, you can not be rude to one such as I, I am too far beneath you. I am humbled that I could be of some small service."_

_When I said things like that I didn't mean a word of it. Mannwan meant every one of them with all of his being. I didn't want to face this tonight. I pulled the boot off too roughly and spent several breaths seeing nothing but stars. Without the support of the boot the foot rested at unnatural angle. I hadn't noticed that Mannwan had brought splints until he started wrapping up my ankle. He tied it off and glanced at my shoulder._

_"You need that put back in place." I nodded and braced myself. With the rotator cuff shredded it wouldn't hold but he wrapped it as well. "We should probably wash your hair first."_

_"We?" other nobles might let their servants bath them but I wasn't one of them. I fought back a flush, was there to be no end to my humiliation? _

_"Your pardon, my Prince, please allow me this as atonement for failing you. You should never have faced Brenin Lladdedig alone."_

_"King Slayer?"_

_"You don't know? What is that idiot teaching you? With the Draigs gone the mardeths are the most powerful cyfae left." I knew that much. Mannwan was trying to unbraid my hair but the mardeth's blood had made it a solid mass. He left for a moment and returned with a basin. I wasn't exactly keen on sponge baths but it did make sense to get the worst of this off before slipping into the tub. _

_"The mardeths have sworn to destroy the Gwaed da Draig. Three thousand years ago House PenNaith was at war with House PenThalion Llyonesse against Avalon. House PenNaith courted Robin the PenHob to make an alliance with the mardeths. When they emerged from their Citadel to conclude the negotiations they were betrayed. Brenin Lladdedig, Gobaith Traflyncu, and Breuddwyd Malu fell upon the court and destroyed them all." King Slayer, Devorer of Hope, and Dream Smasher, my what nice cheery names they'd picked. He came around to face me. "__Two score__ adult warriors and they didn't even manage to wound one of them. And no few members of House Penthalion have fallen to them as well. Tonight you did what no Ellyllon has ever done before. You survived single combat with a mardeth. What's more you nearly won. Brenin Lladdededig will carry the scars you gave him for the rest of his life." He looked down at his hands. "When Earth told me you were in distress and Wind told Dirwyn what you were facing we rode out expecting to die with you. None of us even dreamed of seeing a mardeth so sorely wounded that it tucked tail and flew from us. I wish could have seen it – you must have been brilliant."_

_For a moment I wondered if I had head injury I wasn't aware of – had I just received unqualified praise? Brilliant was not the term I would have chosen but I wasn't going to argue either. Mannwan dumped the nearly black water out the window and refilled the basin. I slipped into the water, relaxing against the side while Mannwan tried to soak the funk out of my hair in the basin. Was there anything more glorious than hot water?_

_ I ignored the outstretched hand and pulled myself from the tub with my right. Argellion appeared bearing fresh bandages, salves, something that smelled absolutely wonderful, and oh, my. He didn't actually expect me to wear that did he? Because it was not happening. Plain, shapeless, and in the absolutely the wrong color. I glared at him in affront. _

_"Your pardon, my prince, but given your" he stopped "It really would be best if"_

_I'd wander the halls naked before I put that thing on and he could see it in my enaid. "I'll send Blaenu for something more suitable."_

_I would have nodded graciously but my neck hurt and I wasn't feeling terribly gracious. He, of all people, should have known better. As Mannwan removed the sodden bandages and replaced them with dry ones I turned my attention to the rich broth Argellion had brought with him. In truth I probably shouldn't be testing my recently perforated innards just yet but I was suddenly ravenously hungry. The spoon felt awkward in my right hand but my left was still out of commission. I forced myself to eat at a dignified pace. I was a Prince of Avalon – I do not SLURP my soup. The spoon slipped from fingers and I slumped against Mannwan._

_"My Prince?" Mannwan's fingers were delightfully warm against my throat as he checked my pulse._

_"Peace, it's just the painkillers and sleeping draughts in the soup taking hold."_

_Sneaky, conniving bastard, I should have known he'd try something. And my instructors wonder why I don't trust them._

_"I feared the lad's pride would keep him from resting properly."_

_Argellion really does know me far too well. I was caught somewhere between anger and gratitude, sleeping and waking. I had the distinct impression that they'd just bundled me into that ugly thing. I'd get even later I decided as Mannwan lifted me gently and carried me off to bed. This was so humiliating!_

_ One of them tucked the blankets around me while the other busied himself at hearth. A sparkle of green and a soft, uncallussed hand smoothed my still damp hair back from my forehead and then rested tenderly on my cheek. _

_"Good, brave lad" a gentle kiss. I was beginning to become indignant, not that it mattered since I couldn't move._

_"If he was awake you'd have just lost that hand at the wrist" Mannwan commented from my right sounding amused. _

_Someone, Argellion, I presumed, sat beside me on the bed and sighed "And whose fault is that?"_

_This time it was Mannwan who sighed "You made your point Gwella Argellion. I concede, you win."_

_Mannwan conceding to Argellion!! Apparently I'd missed the Last Trumpet. Somewhere out there wolves were lying down with lambs and they were beating swords into plowshares. _

_"Have I?" He was working something into the muscles of my right arm. It stung a bit at first and then went blissfully warm that strange pervasive chill utterly banished anywhere it touched. _

_"What more do you want from me?"_

_"We are both here because we are the best at what we do. You are the finest warrior in all of Avalon. I am the best malio gwella." What under the Hill was a malio gwella? "For years you have ignored my protests. No more. Did you do as I asked?"_

_"I look at the Prince everyday" Mannwan snapped defensively. _

_This time Argellion was the one grinding his teeth "And what do you see?"_

_"The one who will be our king, Bringer of"_

_"Stop it" Argellion barked "Enough. Stop looking at him as a damn religious icon!" He launched up off the bed jostling me painfully. That sounded suspiciously like a fist striking flesh. Had Argellion gone so far as to HIT Mannwan? I tried to rouse myself but I seem trapped between sleeping and quaking, will or nil. _

_"Do not do that again Malio Gwella Argellion or I shall not restrain myself."_

_"Never in all of my life have I ever wanted to harm another. Never wished for skill with blade or bow but by the Dragon's I wish I had it now. I wish I could bully you the way you bully that boy."_

_I held my breath. 'Please don't kill him Mannwan' I thought 'I owe **him** my life too.'_

_There was a long silence "And what do you see?"_

_"I see a beautiful, powerful, talented **CHILD**. And may he one day forgive us for what we've done to him, you and I." He dropped back onto the bed and went back to salving my battered body. "I've raised three of my own. I know what children of this age should be doing and this isn't it. This isn't it." He picked up my hand and kissed it "These hands should never have held a sword."_

_"There was never a choice. Not if you want him to live. Avalon needs warrior not a healer."_

_"If you really believe Avalon doesn't need a healer than you're even more of a fool than I ever thought." _

_"Mayhap. But would you have me give up the best student I've ever had?"_

_"Is he? You'd never guess it from the way you treat him. Lists, recriminations, criticisms, goals the dynols' omnipotent God couldn't live up to. Take care Helwyr Mannwan or **you** will break this boy. **You alone."**_

_"You know as well as I do that we haven't the time to coddle His Grace that's why **you're** here." _

_"I'm not asking you to. I'm not asking you to stop sending him out to kill. I'm not asking you to stop running him through when he makes a mistake in the salle. It's your job to teach him how to stay alive. It's mine to keep him sane while the rest of you force him to learn more in a decade than he should have learned in a century. All I'm asking is when you train the king to be you remember the child that is." There was a faint click as he set the jar down and left. The fire popped and crackled but even after the bath a faint chill persisted. Another presence on the bed and the salve again applied with a sure, callused but surprisingly gentle touch. _

_"You're such a tiny, little thing. It's easy to forget that because you're such a tenacious, contrary, stubborn soul. I don't think you've figured it out yet but you're already better than I am with lance and blade. I'm winning on shear brute strength and you'll be stronger than me in a few more years. Your archery needs some work but you know that better than I do. You're the absolute best of your House and I am humbled to be your teacher. Pleasant dreams." Another kiss, everyone was being awfully free with my person tonight or was it morning now?_

_"Dragon's Teeth you'll never wed" Argellion must have been just outside the door._

_"I'm warrior not a diplomat."_

_"And it shows. You can't even speak frankly to the lad when he's asleep. We've both been fools in our own ways. Our stay in Valladoid should be brief and then we take him home."_

_"What?"_

_"I said we are taking him back to his home." I never dreamed Argellion's voice could hold such steel. "I don't tell you how to run your drills don't presume to defy me on this." _

_To my surprise Mannwan again acquiesced. It was what I wanted but I had the distinct impression I was being coddled and that was simply not to be tolerated. Just because I was small and elegant did NOT mean I needed to be pampered. I was perfectly capable of pulling far more than my own weight._

_"This is Blaenu's fault" he growled. A warm little body snuggled next to mine. I wondered if his nurses would notice that he was gone again or if they were busy with Juan. Any other night I'd have sent Wind to check. His blues glittered even through my closed eyelids. I was suddenly truly drowsy now as that persistent chill finally receded and I had to fight to listen to Argellion and Mannwan in the outer chamber. Some guards to let a two year old slip past or had Blaenu brought him here instead of his own room? He sighed contentedly. Was he sucking on his thumb? Well, **that** would have to stop if we were to be seen together. Besides if his grandfather was any indication he didn't need to add crooked teeth to that jaw._

_"Because he didn't foresee the mardeth? Visions are notoriously chancy things."_

_"I don't mean that – four years later and he's still in double time. If he could bespeak Earth properly he could have escaped unscathed."_

_If Argellion betrayed me about Sandro I'd cut out his tongue and force feed it to him._

_"It's not Blaenu or the lad's fault. He's right he hasn't a single amseru gift."_

_"You can't possibly think he really was born that way."_

_"No, I think a temporal mage more powerful than Blaenu did it to him."_

_"But, but, she's mad, Princess Meleri, is mad."_

_"Perhaps, but there's more going on behind those eyes than anyone guesses" Argellion sighed "I can still see her as she once was with the wind in her leaf green hair. If she did it then she has her reasons. And the lad gains as much from Wind as he loses from Earth by being as he is."_

_Ah, that one, the one that ignored us, not Her._

_"I failed her." Oh, now there was a revelation. Argellion had been in love with a Princess of House Penthalion. Dangerous, dangerous ground. "Her sanity slipped right through my fingers. Now this one, this one won't go mad, no worries there."_

_"But you think he'll break under torture?" I wanted to snarl with indignation._

_"Torture no, not him. But even the staunchest heart can break. Being a mind healer" oh so that's what a malio gwella was. That did rather explain a number of things "is both a blessing and a curse. You come to know everyone around you far too well. Our Prince has one great flaw - that prickly pride is like a fault line. Failure, despair, guilt, and grief will be his greatest foes. He's resilient and tough but you hit him with all four at once and he'll shatter like glass."_

_I most certainly will not!_

_"Please, Mannwan, enough. Don't set that lad up for failure because he can't handle it." I won't need to – I never fail. Temporary setbacks rear their ugly heads from time to time but that just keeps life interesting. There was no such thing as the unsolvable problem, at least not for me. Power, planning, details, and timing. "You and I both know no King of Avalon has ever even contemplated much less been the king you keep talking about."_

_"Is it so wrong to dream that one day we might have a King worthy of the name?" again that defensive tone from Mannwan._

_"No, but remember no Penthalion worthy of the crown has ever survived to reach the throne." _

_'I will, Mannwan' I swore silently – 'I'll be your king and I'll make it to the throne.'_

_"Speaking of survival do you think if I'd coddled him he'd have survived that mardeth?"_

_"He didn't."_

_"Have you gone mad? The Prince might not be well, but by the Dragon's he's alive."_

_"He is now. But do you really think Brenin Lladdedig was so injured that he would have turned aside without a fight if his task had been unfinished? I may not be a warrior but I know when I have a corpse in my lap."_

_"I know the Prince sees the dead but that doesn't mean.. are suggesting.." Mannwan sounded shaken "It is forbidden" he whispered._

_"There are many secret things done in the courts. House Penthalion has certainly produced on shortage of them. I should have looked for it. Sea and Fire, Air and Earth, Blessing and Cursing, Shadow and Substance, all in perfect balance and perfect opposition, as soon as he revealed healing I should have looked for its opposite in spite of the fact that the two have never been paired before. I know what I saw tonight – Life and Death woven together so cleverly as to take your breath away. The boy is a"_

_"Don't say it" Mannwan voice cracked._

_"Not saying it won't make him any less of a necromancer. It's too dangerous to leave him untrained. Don't argue with me. I know the old wisdom, but so far as I can tell the Prince has taken no harm. And he has not been sparing with the application of his ichae."_

_Damn you Argellion! I don't care if you just saved my life there was going to be hell to pay for that. Mannwan didn't need to know. Actually, how **did** Argellion know? Since he betrayed me with Milady Latimer I had been the epitome of discretion. Of course I still wasn't sure how he'd know about her either._

_"But I forbad" Argellion outright laughed. He had a beautiful laugh maybe I shouldn't force feed him his tongue after all. It would be a terrible shame to never hear it again. _

_"I don't know the half of what that child does. You, I'm sure, don't know the tithe. You'll have better luck forbidding the Wind to blow than to stop him healing. Be silent just once and watch him heal, pure pleasure. He kills for convience or necessity but heals for joy. I will petition on the marrow for those I know and trust to train him in healing and"_

_"You've said it once, there's no need to say it again. And I very much doubt anyone from Avalon will be joining us. Don't you understand what that attack means?" I lost my fight with unconsciousness and slipped over the edge into dreams._

**Historical Notes: **I haven't been able to get my paws on a biography of Alexander Farnese so I've had to glean from other sources. He was the grandson of Charles the V by his illegitimate daughter. He did have an identical twin named Carlos. His mother was massively unhappy in her marriage and the couple usually lived on separate estates. He was raised with Philip's son Don Carlos but I don't know when he left his mother's care and went to Spain. There was a Diet of the Hapsburg family in late 1547. I've pushed it up a few months just so the family would be together in time for the trip across France to take place in the summer/fall instead of midwinter. Charles ruled over more countries than he could keep track of and other family members served as regents. Mary of Hungry was his sister. In youth she had been married to the King of Hungry but when the Ottoman Turks invaded he drowned during the retreat. She adamantly refused to ever remarry.

**Cal**If I'd had a review that long eaten what I'd have to say would be NC-17 for extreme graphic violence! One of these days I've **got** to learn to review like that. It's amazing how I can write and write and when I go to review can't seem to say a thing! As far as smart goes – every parent I've ever had (and Dad's been married 4 times) would add ass to that! I love tangents – that's why I NEED the mantra. If my muse could be bribed I'd pay him to SHUT UP!!! On the other hand I do love mashed potatoes…so after borrowing your shoehorn I think (still no promises) that I may have found a spot for an Anna-Maria flashback. I'd intended to give that particular 'moment' to Jack but I think Anna-Maria would do just as well and it'll give her some much needed 'screen time'. Of course that's 6 chapters (give or take) downstream. Sigh – I've got SO many characters that's it's tough to keep things in balance!! Sometimes I feel like I'm juggling cats with this story!

Actually while Mallory knew the instant he heard a Haitian Wind something was brewing he had no idea it was going to blow up that very night. For that matter neither did the slaves really. Jack and Anna-Maria's wedding just seemed like an opportune moment. The only reason Mallory said anything at all to Marissa was for Lars and Gilly's sakes. Mallory's worries for Jack and Anna-Maria are strictly based on Marissa herself. Jealousy anger cunning grieving self-centered spoiled brat (evil grin) you'll just have to wait and see. I am a tease aren't I? As to the opthamologist's bill wait until the end and just start compounding interest :) you make more that way. As to Jack being the weakest link – would **you** want be the first man to jump Mallory after the flambé maneuver and with that sword in hand? Besides it's Will's **opinion** that they thought Jack was the weakest link. I'm sure Jack's opinion is somewhat different. And, yes, Jack will most DEFINITELY be seeing the real Mallory…at the opportune moment :).

I actually had a long debate with myself about Anna-Maria in this chapter when I was writing. Movie Anna doesn't seem to mind leaving Jack to take care of himself from time to time and her mother doesn't have much longer so I had her send Bill and Mr. Cotton while she remained with her mother. That and I don't think Elizabeth would **survive** Anna-Maria using her as a scratching post. Let's face it which one would you put your money on in a fight? And after Merrie's most recent chapter of Gilded Cage I didn't want to even **think** about a Jack/Will fight right now.

As for the machete – I only seem to do dark humor well and, yes, I'm a little twisted. There's probably a really profound character statement in that.

For now Elizabeth has the same mentality about mix-breeds as most 1700's planters. (Never fear her epiphany will come in time – chapter 17ish I think. Post journal anyway.) The more white blood the less 'bestial'. For instance Anna-Maria as a quadroon would NEVER be used for heavy field labor expect MAYBE very briefly at harvest. She would either become the consort and housekeeper for a white man (though not a wife unless he was from the dregs of society) or a maid in a household (or both – 1700's multitasking). It was called 'raising the color' since there was an extreme shortage of white women in the Caribbean mix-bred girls were actually in some demand. There was a very complex ranking system of who could do what with whom ("respectably" anyway I'm sure the "rules" got broken quite a bit in reality). Basically it ran negro (pure African) - sambo or griffe - mulatto - quadroon - mustee - musteephimo (a word that has a different spelling in every book!) - white. A musteephimo's children with a white man were considered free whites though far down the social ladder. Pure Africans generally netted higher prices than sambos or mulattoes who were considered to be too white to be as good in the fields as a pure African but not white enough to be trainable for skilled labor. Quadroons and up were generally better educated and employed either in the house or as tradesmen or artisans. So in summation a 1700's planter would probably grant that Anna-Maria was a fellow human being and depending on the white bloodline (is she very successful planter's or gentleman's daughter or just an overseer's daughter?) **might** even consider her the social equal of the indentured servants (or pirates ;) hence Elizabeth's reasonably descent treatment of Anna-Maria. She's far enough up the color bar to be marginally acceptable. Or at least that's what my college Historical Archaeology of the Caribbean notes say. The professor may have been sniffing glue for all I know.

Sorry that there isn't any Anna-Maria in this section and her appearance will be fairly brief in chapter 14. She has an important mostly 'off-screen' task during the journal chapters after those we get some more Anna/Jack stuff. Actually in my personal opinion the best Anna-Maria moment of the whole story comes with Jack in the aftermath of the journal revelations.

As for them going after Lars – the ju-ju priest wanted to be sure he'd raised enough power to win. Since he was doing blood magic that required a child sacrifice – who better than the child of a woman who **should** have understood and been merciful but wasn't? There's an incredibly sick and twisted 'justice' in their choice of victims. 'Yellow cat' is an old slang phrase for a mix-breed overseer that's an overzealous disciplinarian. No one was more hated by the slaves which is what Mallory was trying to warn Marissa about.

The REALLY sad thing is that there are **still** slaves in the world three centuries later. And every word out of Elizabeth's mouth would have been the accepted, common wisdom in 1700. Quaker women were publicly FLOGGED in the NORTHERN colonies just for saying slavery was wrong in the late 1600 - early 1700's. Elizabeth's stance is another thing I had a long debate with myself about (now you know why it took so long!). Should I make her the 20th century woman of the film or the 17th century woman she would have been? I decided to brave the flames and be historically accurate on this point – after all that fine house she grew up in was built on slave labor and I didn't hear any complaints!

As for Mallory and the plants – don't be too hard on Liz. At her age he had a lot of blind spots too. He **is** over 150 years her elder after all. And as this and the journal chapters will show he's come a long way and he's learned a little wisdom and consideration the hard way.

Don't worry - Mallory's turn to be on the receiving end of some help is coming, though he isn't going to appreciate it much in the beginning! Though you may want to lay in a supply of tissues 'cause it's gonna get worse before it (maybe) gets better.


	18. Goes Unpunished

**Author's notes: **Sorry about the length on the last one I got on a roll writing about the mardeth and it kind of snuck up on me. I didn't even notice until my printer kept going and going… Also I made a bit of a gaff back in Chapter 9 – I said that Mallory's grandfather died in August of 1548 when it should have been August 1547. Sheesh, you'd think I could keep my own timeline straight! I also feel a little uneasy about what I've written about the Sea after the disaster in the Indian Ocean. My apologies first, for how long this took, for some reason this one put up one heck of a fight. Actually in all honesty I'm still not completely happy with it but I tired of banging my head against it.

**Rose of England:** Thank you, bows, slips and falls on bum. You ask a simple question and your answer ends up at the end along with my reply to Cal. For those who are interested please see the lecture on the Natural History of Mardeths at the bottom. I contacted Hagrid since he is undoubtedly more knowledgeable than I but he declined. Something about a mess to clean up before Dumbledore finds out. I decided that not only did I not want to know but that it was safer for everyone. Our guest lecturer has sworn she wouldn't even be tempted to bring a real one.

**Cal** For your reply go to the bottom, go directly to the bottom do not pass Isla de Muerta do not collect two hundred gold pieces. And I hope you enjoyed your holidays!

**Little Bird:** Merry Christmas:). Elizabeth has most definitely NOT forgotten about the favor Mallory has promised her but she doesn't want to use it for the journal for a couple of reasons. 1.) Why waste it if she doesn't HAVE to? 2.) She wants to read the journal on the sly. Mallory has clearly tried to leave several times and he is very protective of his journal. FORCING him to hand it over is not going to endear him to anyone. They would have their answers but I assure you Mallory would be NOT be a happy Ellyllon and he WOULD NOT stay.

**Istani – **Scary isn't it that I'm only about half done. If I had known when Mallory showed up in my head last Christmas that his story was so complicated I'd have shown him to the door.

**Dragon Hunter: **Well, she is an incredibly fluffy cat with an aversion to being held and they got her second hand as well. Mallory's worries about Jack and Peregrine don't actually involve Peregrine **himself **hurting Jack but saying anything else would be a spoiler. Mallory's assassination scene is intended to be amusing on a first pass but disturbing on second thought. This is a pretty little kid who has been turned into a killing machine – no remorse at all and not much conscience which sort of feeds into his willingness to leave Carlos (for more detail see the last paragraph of my reply to Cal). He is aware of the Shadows but not that Will is 'in the back door' as it were. And he would be quite upset to learn that he's left himself that vulnerable! And he hell be **_damn_** sure wouldn't spill his guts the way he does in this. Let's just say Elizabeth is getting a far more edited and watered down version than we are.

Glad you enjoyed the mardeth. It's particularly nice to hear that an action scene is exciting when you already know that the character survived (mostly) :).

**Arianna Malfoy**: Sorry about the long wait – for some reason this section has been a bear to write. Well, that and someone gave me Season 1 of Smallville for Christmas and up to the last few episodes of Season 3 I was completely hooked in spite of the absolutely abysmal science (and the really, REALLY bad writing – talk about shabby continuity and a certain lack of internal logic. The Smallville writers could really use some lessons from the Babylon 5 or Highlander writers). I must confess at the moment I'd like to dunk Clark in the vat of liquid kryptonite Lex rescued him from in Memoria until he comes to his senses. Clark has become the most judgmental, hypocritical, lying, moronic leech I have ever seen. No wonder Lex turns on him. The world needs to be saved **from** this Superman. But I digress – THANK YOU FOR ALL THE PRAISE I only hope I can continue to deliver (hopefully more promptly in the future!)

**Falcon Wing, Hithwen, ErinRua, xImmortalx, Love2rite, Demented Ferret and anyone else out there reading – Belated Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year!**

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 12: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished II**

"I never did hear it again" he said quietly before sitting up much to Sea's displeasure.

"Hear what?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"Argellion's laugh. By the time I awoke from my drugged sleep my instructors were gone leaving only a hastily scribbled list of names behind. When we met again the only one laughing was my sire."

"But I thought you said you were to receive at least ten years of instruction."

"I was. I am only half trained at best. My grandsire was ancient, milady, even as my House recons it. He was _dying_, but with the assistance of a team of healers he hoped to give me long enough to complete most of my training. The court would never accept a nineteen year old over an adult even one as disturbed as my sire." He gave a mirthless chuckle that dissolved into a cough "Given my prodigious talent for Shadows it was felt if I could be trained to a certain level I could be passed off as one of my parents elder children. Mannwan and Argellion as young, popular Lords were to form the core of the Regency Council and continue my instruction in secret. But we never got the chance to try. My sire sent the mardeth for me the same night he murdered his father. My instructors were recalled the next morning."

Mr. Cotton's not parrot fluttered over and landed opposite him.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted any of this" he whispered to the bird as he scratched its chin. It squawked angrily at him in response and then ruffled its feathers when he just stared at it with haunted eyes.

"That's what was over us that night" my father whispered then spat more fiercely "Jack left ye te a bloody mardeth te sail away with Barbossa! Bloody, ungrateful, selfish, stupid, bastard."

Mallory arched one dark brow from his perch in the window as my father hit the wall still muttering curses.

"Abusing your fingers and Peregrine isn't going to change anything and to be perfectly honest I neither needed nor wanted Sparrow's assistance. All I wanted was to know he was safe while I dealt with matters." He gave Elizabeth a pointed glance "Sometimes help is more of a hindrance."

She flushed again and mumbled something. I wondered if I was ever going to find out how Mallory had ended up with the machete in his back. Or for that matter the truth about Mr. Bolger.

"You are quite welcome but next time, please, do as you're bid. I might not be there to save your life."

I don't even remember moving. I just suddenly had her in my arms.

"It's alright Will. I'm fine."

I glance over at Mallory but to my relief he looked more amused than affronted by her behavior, "Methinks, milady is nearly as keen on being rescued as I am."

I could see Elizabeth gathering her nerve to ask a question I wasn't sure any of us wanted to hear the answer to as I recalled all those little piles of sand and my father's observation about Mallory being willing to pull himself out of his grave for Jack – had he?

"Adfyw means half-living are you…" she trailed off nervously.

"Alive? Yes. There is a grey place though between the life and death with which I have become far too familiar. I even gave Barbossa and his crew an extended tour" I shivered at the hate in those glittering green eyes. Even dead he still hated them. Jack's eyes had held neither pleasure nor triumph when he killed Barbossa. I was willing to bet everything I owned Mallory's would have held both. "If I have ever passed into what lies beyond I do not recall it."

"And can you raise the dead?"

"Sometimes I can pull back the ones who haven't crossed that final threshold yet, but the truly dead?" he shivered and his eyes flittered around the room "Some things are forbidden with good cause. No, milady, I will not raise the dead. I will not restore the days of King Arawn and his cauldron born."

"What about Meleri?" I asked.

"I killed her, I watched her die, they left her in the cell with me for over a week before they…paused to have her interred on the Silent Street. I had hoped that at least in death she could find a little peace, that I had bought her that much. I should have known better. Argellion insinuated that there were other necromancers in the court but necromancy carries a death sentence outside of House Penthalion. No one speaks of it and no one admits if they're capable of it. I don't know what they did to her. I don't know what she is now. I don't want to know. I just wish they'd left her alone." He sounded terribly weary, not tired like he had earlier, but soul weary.

"If you don't approve of necromancy then why did you use it for the curse?" I winced at Elizabeth's derisive tone.

"The short answer is I tried to talk to Barbossa about Sparrow's whereabouts and lost my temper."

"Then you didn't actually plan the curse?" she asked with a smug little smile.

"Not as such, no." There was an unmistakable warning in that voice.

"And if Mannwan was such a wonderful, honorable Ellyllon then why was he sending you out to kill?"

I swallowed at the glare he leveled at Elizabeth. What stared out at Elizabeth didn't seem even remotely human. It was a cold, reptilian stare, not cat's eyes, dragon's eyes. I wanted to put a hand over her mouth. Elizabeth was always so secure and protected as the Governor's daughter that in spite of our adventure two years ago she had no real concept of personal danger.

"I have never had much patience milady and what little I possess wears thin. In Avalon the King's Word is as sacred as your Christ's and far more swiftly obeyed. And the King's Word said I was to be a killer." He turned from her and I released the breath I'd been holding. "As was my duty, I, of course, saw Juan, Sandro, and Carlos safely to Valladolid. I had intended to depart for England afterward but Philip dismissed the boys' nurses the very day we arrived. I was loath to leave little Sandro completely abandoned among strangers so I tarried with him through the winter and spring. Then in the summer Juan's libido landed him in trouble with several powerful members of the court. Juan's grip on theology was always rather weak so they decided to use the Inquisition to destroy him." He shook his head "What a young fool I was. There were so many other things I could have done instead of using myself as a diversion. After my apparent execution remaining in the Spanish court as Lord Tallyrand would have been impossible so I turned my attention to England only to discover that Milady Latimer was dying. In the aftermath I all but forgot Sandro…"

_ He was laughing. His wife less than a month buried and he laughed. Gone. Her loss was a pain the like of which I had never known, a persistent ache that I wondered if I would ever be free of. I couldn't even imagine laughing. I want her BACK. The laugh of her murderer was like having someone twist a knife already buried deep. I had intentionally found a perch where I couldn't see him. In truth I hadn't laid eyes on him since I'd gotten here – I didn't dare. I trembled with rage but I reined it in hard. He would die for her murder but the humiliation of a public execution would cut far deeper than a quick flick of the wrist or even a few weeks in a torture chamber. Not that the later wasn't tempting. So deliciously tempting. For a moment I let myself fantasize. None of Skeffington's toys, just a table, a couple of restraints, and a dagger. Oh, to hear him scream, and scream he would. I was good at my work and for the first time it would be a pleasure to see a man break and beg. But that was selfish, Milady deserved justice as well as vengeance even if mere revenge was enticing._

_((Rhys?)) Jane's questioning enaid brushed against mine and I froze before sending a soothing reply. I still didn't understand how or what had happened but we were linked. She knew what I was now. There could be no hiding it. She had become the other half of my soul in a bond so deep it made even a sechar pair seem like casual acquaintances. For the first time I wished desperately for Argellion. His advice would be priceless. She excused herself and joined me on the balcony. _

_"He isn't half as happy as he sounds" she molded herself against me knowing that I would weave a Shadow of her reading and no one would be the wiser. She was so petit for her age that in spite of the fact that she appeared several years older we saw eye to eye when I stripped the Shadows away. "Don't be angry with him. He lost her too. Why don't you come join us?"_

_I shook my head wordlessly – there were no words for just how **bad** an idea that was._

_She didn't know and with her this close I had to bury the truth and forget for the moment that I knew. Protecting Jane from the darker side of my life was becoming progressively harder. In our waking hours I had a fair bit of control. I could throw my senses wide and let her see the world through my eyes or almost completely exclude her. The nights were more chancy and twice she'd woken terrified from one of my nightmares which had led to a mortifying revelation about why I dream of mad women with hair the color of pine needles and eyes like quicksilver who roam the countryside eating children. And I had to wonder what this link would do to me when she, she. I didn't even want to think about it. She was only eleven and with my healing abilities she would lead a long life. But I couldn't shake the memory of Jane's enaid the night Milady died. It was as if Jane was going to follow her in heart if not in body and the thought of loosing them both in a single blow had frightened me more than the mardeth. It worried me that Jane's renewed interest in living was just a pale shadow of mine instead of her own desire, and far more troublesome the thought that someday this link might force her beyond where she wished to go. _

_'Your choice, Jane' I swore to myself 'no matter what it costs me.'_

_"So serious" she whispered. _

_Now there was a case of the pot calling the mirror black. "You don't have to whisper. No one will hear if I do not wish it."_

_Hands even smaller than my own captured my chin so that I was looking in worried eyes "Rhys you don't smile anymore."_

_I gave her my most winsome one "Methinks milady has not been paying attention of late." But her expression was as sorrowful as a crucifixion angel. _

_"Yes, I have. Where is my merry knight?" She searched my slit pupilled eyes. _

_"Milady knows at her whim I would steal the crown jewels and lay them at her feet. I would bring a unicorn to sleep in her lap. Or have the fairies sing her to sleep and weave her a crown of starlight and a mantle of moonbeams. I would tame the raging sea or ride the howling wind or cross the burning desert. Anything for you." I finished the statement not with the words but allowed the emotion itself to enfold her through the bond – I love you. She leaned against me and undid my braid letting my hair tumble down around my shoulders to mingle with hers, midnight blue interwoven with strawberry blond._

_"You have such beautiful hair. Why do you always keep it braided?" _

_I froze for an instant before forcing a nonchalant shrug, "It is inappropriate for a gentleman of my stature."_

_It's sloppy – sloppy gets you killed. _

_"Oh, honestly, you're always so perfectly turned out you make the rest of us look like disreputable little street urchins." Her attack moved on to my collar. I wanted to pull her hands away. I wanted to MAKE her stop as a flutter of panic danced up my spine. She paused and frowned "What's amiss? You don't have to be perfect all the time Rhys."_

_Yes, I do. A flash of face twisted in fury as I was pummeled against the unforgiving stones of the Tower. I forced the memory back into the distant past were it belonged and hoped Jane hadn't caught a glimpse of it._

_She drew a sharp breath "Who beat you?"_

_I caught one of her hands and kissed it "No one." I could tell I wasn't going to get away with a lie this time, not bound as we were. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter."_

_She mussed my doublet and I again had to force myself not to stop her. _

_"I think it does." Was this my meek little Jane!_

_I sighed "I was taken directly from There to Cromwell, still wild and feral. He gave me to Skeffington to civilize and he wanted the job done quickly. He had work for me to do." Her eyes went round as saucers._

_"Skeffington? You really were his protégé?" I'd fought long and hard to erase that image. You might as well admit to being Satan's acolyte as one of Skeffington's associates. In truth, being Satan's servant might engender less fear. Proud lords didn't disappear into Satan's hands and emerge hale in body but broken in mind. People expect men to break under torture but the nobles Skeffington had broken hadn't been tortured – at least not on the rack. The sheer mystery of what he had done to reduce strong men to wreckage was almost as frightening to the nobility as the thought that they might be next. Of course, it was no mystery to me. I knew all about the Pit and the Little Ease but then so did others. No, the worst work was done in the hidden chambers, deep below, in cells so saturated with suffering that the very stones had grown twisted and cruel with a darkness that had nothing to a lack of natural light. I shoved those memories back sweeping them away from Jane's questing touch._

_"My poor, gentle Rhys" she whispered as she leaned against me. Me - gentle! Gentle would not have been a term I would have used to describe myself. But instead of gainsaying her I finished pulling my ruff free and dropped it on rushes in defiance. And then had to smile in rueful amusement at my small act of rebellion against a dead man._

_"Now, that was nearly a smile." It wasn't until she flashed me a madcap grin and bolted that I realized she'd taken three of my rings and my purse. I had never been so dumbstruck in my entire life. **I** was usually the one pulling ridiculous pranks to amuse Jane. That Jane was trying to cheer **me** was…frightening. Was this the result of the link? Or had I been so morose this month past that even my perpetually depressed Jane thought I needed help? _

_She turned suddenly, mortified that she had offended me. I flashed her a reassuring grin. How many times had I told Jane to live in the moment, that sometimes you had to leave the future to care for itself and forget the past and simply be in that one single shining instant? Time to take a bit of my own advice. I invoked anghofrwydd and let it roll over Jane through the link. To everything a season – a time to mourn and a time to dance. _

My God! My God! I fought to hold onto the link as a wellspring of purest, unsullied joy welled up from somewhere in Mallory and filled me. I had never, even the day I wed Elizabeth, experienced anything like it. It was like the headiest wine instantly intoxicating. I reeled and slipped back into being Mallory.

_I let her get a bit further ahead before beginning my pursuit. It was odd watching her draw on my skills but then apply them in slightly different ways. Absolutely intriguing, I let her run, staying just a little behind, drawing out the game of cat and mouse out until the opportune moment. She squealed as I caught her then laughed in unshadowed delight as I spun sending her heavy skirts swirling around my ankles and my rings flying from her fingers._

_"Rhys – your rings!"_

_I knew exactly where each had rolled to just as I knew the location of every person with in a quarter mile, all the furnishings in the room, and the position of every hound, hawk, and horse on the grounds. Survival was a matter of knowledge and details. I showed her the how without letting her see the why as I let the anghofrwydd fade. She leaned back against me._

_"How did you do that?"_

_"It's called the anghofrwydd. It means 'the forgetting'. Every soul has a prime emotion, what it feels when there is no past to color it, no future to fret over." I shrugged "mine is joy."_

_"That must be what Heaven is like" she whispered._

_I restrained a shiver – a place with no past or future? _

_"With the ability to feel that whenever you want to why don't you?"_

_"Because it's a fantasy, because giving up the pain and the loss also means giving up the memories and I would not give up the memory of those I have loved for anything nor will I sacrifice my ability to dream of tomorrow. Yes, I can escape the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune but only by sacrificing everything else. I'm not a dog, Jane, to live **always** in the now."_

_Just as she started to answer my sparrows came fluttering in the half open window all chirping in fear. _

_"He's hunting larks not sparrows" I said trying unsuccessfully to reassure them. My sparrow, the father of this entire rowdy flock settled irreverently on Jane's head and regarded me expectantly. I slipped away from Jane and scattered some seed on the table. With a jaunty flick of his tail he joined the feeding frenzy. _

_"Gentle Rhys" Jane observed with a sad smile._

_"Rhys the Dupe" I retorted. I nodded to my sparrow "He knows very well they aren't being hunted. He just wanted a free meal for the entire family."_

_I settled myself in the window seat on the side with the shutter already open. She curled up against me "I keep hearing her voice. I keep looking for her in the halls" she began to weep against my chest. I kissed the crown of her head and crooned something comforting. I was on the third stanza of her favorite hymn and half-way through a mental prayer to her Christ before I even realized what I was doing. I sang her gently to sleep._

_Dragon's breath, what have I **done**? I asked myself and wished again for Argellion. Or perhaps not, Argellion undoubtedly would merely teach me how to sever the link. That was indisputably the wisest course of action. I **knew** that a tendency to pray to her god was the least of the price I might ultimately pay for this. But as I sent a wave of comfort and love down the link and watched her lips curl into the sweetest smile to ever grace them I no longer cared even if it cost me my life. I smoothed her too light to be brown, too red to be blond hair back from her face. _

_Upon my return to England I had had something of an epiphany about my own nature, one that would have sent Mannwan into such a state that I was profoundly glad that he was not here. Like all of my House I had inherited Draig instincts along with Draig Blood and male Draig were known for three things, vanity, pride, and possessiveness. There was no arguing that I had pride and vanity refined into art forms but much to my instructors confusion (and occasional dismay) I had shown none of the usual tendencies towards either tiriogaethol, the compulsion to carve out and defend a territory or casglu the drive to hoard some sort of object and defend it beyond all human reason. The only thing that would trouble me about the loss of my English estates would be the loss of my horses. The truth was (though I would never admit it to Mannwan) I didn't give a tinker's damn about the throne of Avalon and would be quite pleased to never sit upon it. Neither silver nor gold held any sway over me. I gave far more of the gemstones I crafted away than I ever kept. And in spite of my vanity I wasn't casglu over my clothes. My eyes flickered up to check my appearance in the glass. My romp with Jane had done my garments no favors and my hair was an absolute disaster. I itched to set it right but I might disturb Jane and these moments with her deeply and contentedly asleep and me wide awake granted me my first real opportunity to reflect upon matters in true privacy in weeks. No matter, well, it did matter, but as much as it pained me there were moments when personal grooming has to take second place. And I still look good even disheveled._

_Now, where was I? Oh, yes, casglu, I had most certainly inherited the instinct for casglu just not in the normal manner. Milady Latimer had been fond of Matthew 6:21 'for where your treasure is, there your will your heart be also'. Except for me it ran in reverse – where my heart was, there was my treasure also. It had taken every scrap of will power I possessed in that first instant after realizing the truth to not fling myself on Tom and rip out his throat with my teeth and shred his chest with my claws. What had ultimately saved Tom hadn't been any particular squeamishness on my part (though on later, slightly saner reflection it was a terribly messy way to kill someone and the stains would have been simply atrocious) or a realization that I didn't in point of fact HAVE the aforementioned claws but the image of myself leaping on him like some deranged squirrel was simply so undignified that it gave me breathing room for more human thoughts. Not that the human side of me didn't want to kill him too just not in quite that manner. But it really wasn't that simple though my newly awakened Draig instincts would like it to be. _

_I placed a gentle kiss on Jane's forehead. Jane didn't know, and Jane loved Tom. Not infatuated like Bess but the unswerving love a child grants to the white knight that saved her. I played with her ink stained cuffs. Tom didn't care about Jane's apparent inability to keep her clothes out of her ink but that bitch Frances would cane her at the very least. If I killed Tom Jane perforce went back to Bradgate and her mother. I knew very well that Tom hadn't paid 2000 pounds for her for pure altruism. I knew he had his own plans for Jane but I'd thought her safer here than at Bradgate. Now, I was far less sure. I had relied on his genuine affection for Jane to protect her from the worst of his schemes, that and Milady Latimer's gentle hand. In truth we were much alike Tom and I. Charming, gracious, elegant, refined, engaging, witty, handsome, but also scheming, lying, and malicious – iron fists in velvet gloves. But I had never imagined that he would go so far, the thought that he would kill her had never even been whispered in my darkest nightmares, and my nightmares were dark indeed. Part of me still didn't believe it, in spite of knowing it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Desperately didn't want to believe it because Milady and Jane weren't the only ones who had loved Tom. Damn you! Damn you, you bloody fool. You, bloody, bloody fool. What I had discovered upon my return was that land was meaningless to me. Every stone and grain of sand could rise up and worship me and I wouldn't give a damn what mattered were the people I had declared my own – my treasures, my hoard, my casglu. And now one of my jewels was gone – Milady was dead. I wanted to destroy Tom, I **needed** to destroy Tom but that would leave Mary orphaned and Jane devastated and they were also casglu. _

_I laid my head against the sun warmed stones of the manor house and glanced out over the reds and golds that October had dressed the trees in. I plunged Jane into so deep and dreamless a sleep that the final trump wouldn't wake her. Certain that Jane would remain untouched I let my eyes fall on Tom and the maelstrom in my soul broke loose from its moorings. Draig rage at the loss of something precious, something casglu, howled through me nearly drowning out every possibility of human thought. I WOULD NOT be ruled by Draig instincts. I. WOULD. NOT. Argellion had tried to warn me about this, had told me that it was perfectly acceptable among my people to loose to the Draig. Bullshit. Let the rest of them be ruled by dying echoes if they chose – I would not be. I could feel my teeth grinding as I shuddered, breath hitching. It did not help that my human side wanted him dead as well. Rend. **NO!** Tear. **No**! My fingers curled against the ledge as I prepared fly down and annihilate the fool that dared to destroy a Draig's treasure. No. I let Jane slip gently down onto the bench under the window seat as I kicked the other shutter open in preparation to leap. no. I licked my lips in anticipation of fresh blood. I flinched as my sparrow fluttered in my face protesting at the top of his tiny lungs. _

_I batted the annoyance away sending the little bird tumbling straight for the stones at fatal speed. WHAT? I whipped around and plucked him out of the air just before he plowed into the unforgiving wall. I gave the pathetic little ball of feathers in my hands a frantic look. His normally bright eyes were clouded and his little feet curled far too tight but he was still breathing. KILL! I ignored the demand instead marshaling myself for a healing and abruptly the roar of the Draig dropped to the faintest of whispers. Interesting, but I had more pressing business. Healing was a delicate business at the best of times, with something so tiny and fragile it was infinitely more so. I finished with a thorough delousing, and shuddered, I hate vermin! My sparrow shook his head and I tossed him up letting him flutter down to perch on my outstretched finger._

_"That was NOT very wise" I inform him sternly. The impertinent little thing just winked one bright beady eye at me. The healing had shown me something else – my sparrow was getting old and there was nothing I could do about it. I scratched his dark chin and wondered what Mannwan would have said if I had told him my first patient had been a bird. Probably nothing pleasant but the expression would have been amusing to say the least. _

_"You know you would be much more comfortable if you let me keep you" He didn't even let me finish before sinking his beak into my finger and then shooting out the window infuriated at the very thought of a cage. Which led me to another problem. My treasures were living, breathing, people. Draig instinct demanded that I gather them up in a proper hoard and curl up on top with my muzzle tucked under my tail. I snickered at the mental image of me trying to grapple a half dozen people under me and keep them there regardless of their own wishes and suddenly it was anything but amusing. It was, in the cold hard light of reality, an unadulterated disaster. Confident that no one could see me I buried my face in my hands. Power always came at a price, **ALWAYS**. The price of Draig magic was Draig instincts I knew that, I thought I could handle that. Not that I really had a choice. Damn it why couldn't I have picked some shiny thing and collected it like a bloody magpie? _

_ How long, I wondered, until instinct overwhelmed reason? Until I ripped them out of their lives, wrapped them in Gorchymyns, and locked them away? Gorchymyn – the word alone sent a chill up my spine. Of all the things my instructors had tried to teach me it was the only thing I had balked at. Nothing they could say had swayed me. When Mannwan had called it the mark of my House and the wellspring of our rule I had struck the lot of them dumb when I'd sworn I'd find another way. I hated it. The mere thought of it turned my veins to ice. To my mind it was worse than murder, or rape, or torture and I had abjured it but would those bold words hold? I wrapped my arms around my folded legs and pressed my face against my knees and wished again for Argellion. Odd, the entire time he was here I had resented every moment away from Mannwan and weapons work and now while I had no doubt of my ability to physically handle any challenge I was woefully unprepared for this battle. It occurred to me that I was dangerously close to panicking and that simply WOULD NOT do. I drew a deep breath, sat back, and glanced down at Tom. The draig instincts howled for blood but not as they had before. I could do this, failure was not an option. In all of the time in There Meleri had never once stalked us and I strongly suspected that she had saved my life in spite of the draig imperative to end it. If Meleri could beat the draig then so could I. I firmly ignored the small voice that reminded me that Meleri was also quite, quite mad. _

_Come to me the beckoning of the Sea nearly startled me from my slightly precarious perch in the wide open window. You are distressed. Come to me_

_Putting a little distance between myself and humanity while I mastered this was by no means a bad idea and Crefftwr had been insinuating rather snidely right before my instructors' recall that I should have already crafted my first lledrith. The mere thought of the desiccated old fossil was enough to illicit a snarl. I checked my reflection. It was possible to sneer attractively but it took practice - passable but not one of my better efforts and ye gods my hair. I didn't know if love at first sight was real but Crefftwr and I had certainly proven that hate at first sight is a reality. Crefftwr had found my suggestion of a ship uproariously funny. Not even a full athrolluniwr could craft a lledrith ship alone – or at least that was his opinion. All of my gifts were in equal opposition and I was, if my instructors were to be believed, the most talented Shadow Master ever. It stood to reason that I would prove equally proficient with substance. I completely ignored the small voice reminding me that my raw abilities with Wind and Earth were evenly matched but there was no comparison between the results. It would take me at least several months to_

_**NO! NOW!**_

_I rocked back stunned by the vehemence._

_"Soon" I whispered._

_NOW_

_"No" I snapped. I would not be bullied. _

_The sheer force of Sea's reply left me trembling unsteadily in the casement. I let myself drop backward into the room narrowly missing Jane's slumbering form before I end up falling out of the window to my death. _

_Death?_

_"As in no longer among the living. Gone, forever."_

_There was a long pause then never!never!never!never!never!never!never!never!never!never!never!_

_"Not any time soon, probably not for over a thousand years but I'm not cyfae – I won't live forever."_

_NO! Never! I won't allow it! Come to me and I will keep you… forever._

_I lapse into stunned silence before muttering nervously "I can't."_

_Yes, you can. This time Sea's reply wasn't a roar but a liquid whisper replete with mysteries and promises beyond human comprehension. Old salts like Gran's father say the Sea calls to them but I rather doubt anyone else had ever experienced anything quite like this. My senses reeled under the onslaught and I could feel my resistance being swept away like a sand castle in a hurricane. Why not?_

_There is no need for a ship. No need for anything between us. Come to me and I will sustain you for all time_

_Jane stirred in her sleep as my own spells crumbled under the one Sea was coiling me in. I blinked and muttered lethargically "I can't, not forever, I have duties, friends ashore."_

_Then there will be no more shore. No more 'friends'. No reason for you to ever leave me. _

_I could feel the gathering flood. She was going to do it. She was going to cover the Earth just to leave me no other choice but to stay with Her._

_"Don't you dare. I will never speak to you again. **NEVER!**"_

_Sea paused and I could taste the frantic beat of my heart in the long, ominous silence._

_Please don't leave me. There has never been anyone before you who could hear me. I never knew how alone I was until I was not. Please, please don't leave me alone again_

_"You will not make me your captive or your toy. I won't allow it. I can't belong to you but I will be your friend for as long as I live provided you do not harm my other friends."_

_Other friends?_

_"Those like me that I care for."_

_There is no one else like you_

_Well, it went without saying that there was no one quite as extraordinary as me but that didn't help convince Sea to leave the lesser mortals around me unmolested. Mayhap this was my opportunity to convince Sea not to drown anyone._

_"Like the sailors."_

_Nothing but confusion._

_"Like Jane" I let my fingers brush her hair._

_There's nothing there but you_

_The driag instincts roared back to life "**SHE**'s there."_

_This time it was Sea that shied back I see her now. I will never harm her_

_I rose, agitated and paced back to the window. The draig rage flared again at the sight of Tom but I countered it with thoughts of Healing. Mannwan had been absolutely horrified at my Healing abilities not just because of the possibility of madness but because it was **beneath** me to heal. Healers were almost exclusively peasants. When the talent occurred at all among the nobility no one admitted to it willingly. Even Argellion was very, very quiet about the fact that he was a Mind Healer though there appeared to be less of a stigma attached to it than 'gross physical healing' He had been just as horrified but in retrospect for a completely different reason. Argellion had looked at me and seen not a killer but a Healer. And had been worried sick that he'd lose me to madness the way he had Meleri. He'd been so convinced that the reason House Penthalion had never produced a Healer before was that the mindset of a Healer was incompatible with instincts of a Draig. He was right except Healing didn't hinder me it freed me. Jane stirred again but didn't wake. I scattered some more bird seed on the window ledge and watched as my flock of sparrows returned. I had to smile as I recalled my thoughts about Sandro's maid being too plain for me. I dress like a peacock and preen like a Draig but I keep sparrows, ordinary, little sparrows. My sparrow landed on my shoulder. Evidently I was forgiven from earlier. I glanced down at Jane – the most precious of my living jewels, plain Jane, far plainer than Sandro's buxom maid. If you wanted an obscure fact or a religious thesis Jane was your girl but just like Ned there wasn't a single, original thought in her head. There was nothing particularly impressive or inspiring about Jane. Which rather did beg the question of **why** I held her so dear? I sorted through my memories of Jane seeking whatever it was that made some people casglu and other not. Why Henry, Milady Latimer, Jane, Sandro, and Mary but not Bess or Gran? God knows, I paused on **that** bit of thought that had to come from Jane, what the hell. God knows, Bess and Gran were far more kindred spirits than Milady Latimer or Jane would ever be. They were firebrands both of them and every bit as capably ruthless as I was. Truth told if it wasn't for my magical abilities I just might find myself outdone by them._

_I recalled my first sight of Jane so terrified and alone. Damn that bitch Francis! Most courtiers did NOT expose their children to the vicious, sadistic atmosphere of the court. Even the Mouldwarp sent his young to outlying estates until they were older but not Francis, oh, no, she'd packed poor Jane off to Lion's Den to be devoured. I could still remember her introduction to the court like it was yesterday. Skeffington had taken one look at Jane and wanted her. I'd been at Skeffington's side long enough to know how he fed on vulnerability and I'd been in the court long enough to know that being the king's niece was no protection at all. If anything it put her in more danger. She was at best a valuable commodity in the marriage market at worst her heirs might be a threat to the succession. And I had gotten a very good look at what the Mouldwarp did to those who threatened the succession. If the Mouldwarp had to choose between protecting Jane and letting his human mastiff savage her then the trembling child had no hope at all. In that moment she became mine. In that moment Skeffington was a dead man though it would be several months before the actually kill. Details, details, details the devil really is in the details. I'd defied Cromwell, Skeffington and by extension the Mouldwarp for Henry, I'd braced the Mouldwarp for Milady Latimer, I'd killed Skeffington for Jane, and had (literally if temporarily – a thought that still gave me chills) died fighting the mardeth with Sandro. They had needed my protection and I was a bit nonplussed at just how readily I had given it. From the time I'd learned (mostly through the regular application of a stone wall to my face) to speak every lesson with Cromwell and Skeffington had revolved around how to render someone vulnerable and then how to exploit the results. Except that my first uncalculated reaction when confronted with pain was how to help followed immediately with schemes of how to turn things to my advantage. I parse that and decide while I am cursing Francis I should reserve a few choice words for my piece of shit grandsire who graciously allotted me to that charming duo and then when he finally, ever so courteously sent me instructors of my own kind **STILL** couldn't be bothered to give me a thrice benighted **NAME** Which is why I never speak his. Damn I'm petty. Speaking of the previous King of Avalon, why Cromwell and Skeffington and the fanatical insistence on assassinations? Because Argellion was right – I **had** been born a Healer. My grandsire had clearly decided that that was inappropriate. Did he think if he soaked me in enough pain and death that those abilities would be lost? The entire flock of sparrows flushed into the room as Tom's peregrine flew past. I followed the bird with my eyes as she ringed – beautiful, breathtaking, and deadly. At the behest of my grandsire Cromwell, Skeffington, and Mannwan had forged me into a predator - as thoroughly blooded as I am can I ever go back to being what I was born to be? I certainly wasn't going to get the opportunity to even try in the court. In my mind's eye I picture a small ship, sleek and swift enough to elude all possibility of pursuit. A place to try and refine what Milady Latimer, Jane, and Argellion had seen in me from the dross I'd been buried in. Oh, Argellion…_

I nearly lost track of things as another memory clearly from different time and place overwhelmed the one with Jane.

_I let the last cochcanap slide off Risanca feeling more weary than triumphant, besides triumph would be a bit premature given that the difabyd were still in pursuit. And so was **he**. No matter what, tonight is unlikely to be a victory._

_You're getting rusty. You should kill more the white Draig complained. Personally, I thought I'd done a splendid job of dividing the Wild Hunt so I could deal with the cochcanap separately from difabyd and the Gwarthus. The red draig grumbled something but I'd become quite adept through the years at ignoring both of them. While the running commentary was occasionally amusing I was in no mood for it tonight. Besides the difabyd are hard on my heels. I can feel the cold wind of their approach from here. I swallow as the only member of this Hunt I truly dread makes his appearance between me and my chosen ground for being brought to bay by the difabyd. Physically the years since he has been my instructor have not touched him but you can see their weight in his eyes and in his enaid. My sire's rule has drained all of the sparkle and most of the color from the once dazzling emerald that had been Argellion. The ellyllon in front of me is little more than an ambulatory corpse. He just stands there silently blocking my path the blade in his hand held so awkwardly it is a wonder he hasn't hurt himself with it. I swallow again, draigs but I never wanted any of this. I have known that this day would come but it doesn't make the reality any easier to bear. His gaze flickers to the top of the dune. I don't need to turn to know that the difabyd are in sight. He charges forcing the confrontation. I side step it with ease, pluck the blade out of his hand, and slice his hamstrings with my boot dagger. I sweep away from him as he drops to the sand completely incapacitated but not critically injured. Once the difabyd are dealt with I shall return and try again to break one of my sire's Gorchymyns. Maybe, just maybe, Argellion's own mind healing talents will be enough to finally turn the trick. I turn my attention to drawing the difabyd into the trap I have prepared for them. _

_As much as I have always loved riding the truth is being in the double time makes me nearly as swift as any palfrey on my own feet. I am far up the beach before I realize that - THEY AREN'T FOLLOWING ME! **NO! **DAMN IT ALL **NO!** _

The wave of desperate panic from Mallory was nearly enough to toss me back out but I clung stubbornly, refusing to lose the link…

_Swift as the Wind and yet not nearly fast enough I fly back along the strand. They scatter like chaff before me and flow back into the gap encircling me in their lethal midst. Argellion had been dead before I turned and I had known it. Facing them here on their terms is the act of a sentimental fool. I watch his ghost as they watch me. It had been quick, agonizing, but relatively quick. That is not their intention for me. Oh, they intend for it to be agonizing and when they are stated they will return me to my sire a bit worse for wear but that will in no way displease him. More than a few of them are well known to me from their visits to my carchar and my hatred already runs deep. They wait. Patiently, hungrily, thinking that they now have me exactly where they want me. I watch him die again. And still they wait for me to make another mistake, for me to allow grief or anger to give them a clear opening. They are true cyfae and they have no wish to die here. He dies again. They have been ordered to return me to Avalon alive but they have been given ample leeway in how they carry out that order. And they know that no one sent after me has ever survived. No matter how powerful, no matter how ancient. I have heard the whispers on the Wind even here in the Outlands – I have become a legend. Many in Avalon now think me unbreakable and perhaps even truly immortal, the first ellyllon cyfae. I restrain a shiver refusing to grant them the least sign of weakness. Even beings like the difabyd who would once have considered themselves deathless now fear me. Ironic, I have become a nightmare to the nightmares. I watch him die again. They shift and flutter in the moonless night, becoming themselves progressively more uneasy. Their mere unveiled presence should have killed me by now, should have turned my blood to ice. They had assumed my defiance them in the carchar was merely due to the fact that I had never faced more than one at a time that I might stand against them in their full number and horror is inconceivable to them. They are the difabyd – drainers of life, devourers of hope. That I stand in their midst unflinching confuses and dismays them. I watch him die again. Sea is my staunch companion but Fire is more than merely my tool – it sings in my veins. That the child I replaced had been named Rhys, Fiery in El'lan, had been no accident on my grandsire's part. They watch, I watch. Fire is a two edged sword – a useful tool when restrained and a thing of unrivaled destruction when out of control. The draig rage that I have fought for so long hammers against its chains just as the flames of my own rage leap up and this time, this time I yield to the rage, and to the Fire not caring if they consume me as long as the difabyd are destroyed by the Flames…_

_I drop to the sand, exhausted, and gather his body into my arms. The only wounds on him are the ones from my dagger but the terror in his staring eyes is undimmed by mere death. I do not close them. I failed him - it is just that I do not flinch from the results. Odd, I had always loved Mannwan better but Argellion's death cuts far more deeply. The logical part of my mind refuses to merely accept that without explanation. It always did demand that things make sense. Silly really. But then so is the fact that I'm sitting on a beach rocking a corpse. Argellion is long past feeling any pain or comfort from me. I don't stop wondering why this death cuts so deeply and I don't stop rocking us both in spite of the fact that both are ultimately pointless. Sea is worried as are Wind and Peregrine. None of them understands death or grief at least not in dynol or ellyllon terms. I lay my cheek against his cool but not yet cold forehead and silently plead for a forgiveness he can not and should not grant_

_"I never should have abandoned you" I whisper into delicately pointed ears that can not hear. "I should have faced them here. I should have saved you." The side of my brain still actively trying to figure out divers irrelevancies theorizes that Argellion bothers me more because Argellion wasn't a warrior nor did he share Mannwan's definition of honor. Mannwan was a warrior body and enaid and his honor and his 'faith' might have brought us to blows even without the Gorchymyn. Even if I could have broken the Gorchymyn he might have still been unwilling to rebel against the anointed King. Given the situation dieing by my hand in battle was perhaps the best end Mannwan could have hoped for. But Argellion, Argellion had been another matter entirely. Argellion would have been more than willing to ally with me against Him. _

Again I almost lose the link this time to a wave of rage, hate, and terror. Give what his father had done to Mallory I suppose that bone deep terror shouldn't have surprised me but it did. He didn't seem the type to be terrified of anything. But that single glimpse in Mallory's memory of the King of Avalon was enough to turn my own blood to ice. Jack's face but those eyes, Jesus save us, those eyes – the same quicksilver color as Meleri's and just as insane but with a seething malignancy that had me shivering in the warm Caribbean night.

_I smooth his hair back from his face. Agony has twisted it into a mask I can barely recognize. A pity, he had once been fair enough to rival any member of my House. House Tirion had long been known for the power and beauty of its members. I wondered idly if his children are still alive or if my sire has destroyed them as well. Of the three I have only met the eldest, Morwen ap Argellion a Tirion, touted as the fairest in Avalon until I'd knocked her off that pedestal. She loathed me on general principal. Somehow I doubt killing her father would improve my standing – which was the sole positive thing about this since I found her an insufferable bore. _

_"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Forgive me, please, please, please, forgive me. Please, I…" I ran out of words. There were really no words for this, none at all. Words are utterly useless, the right ones simply don't exist for the truly important things. I burrow my head into his still, cold chest. Damn it all, this **NEVER** should have happened. And the truth is I failed more than just Argellion tonight. I failed everyone in Avalon who wanted out from under my sire's thumb. Argellion was **Chancellor**, chief historian, and a mind healer if there was **anyone** in all of the court who could have given me the final pieces to figure out how to successfully destroy the monstrosity that sired me it had been him. I should have known the Hunt would have very specific orders that under no circumstances was he to fall into my hands. Draigs but I'd been played for a naïve fool tonight. Damn it – can't I even mourn a good ellyllon's death without thinking of how his loss affects the balance of power? What kind of monster am I? The kind that has an entire kingdom waiting for him to save them and not clue one how to do it. No, I did have a clue how to do it – Meleri had told me all those years ago and hell be **damned** if I'd... There had to be another way. There **HAD** to except that there wasn't. I won't do it. I won't. Not for a crown, not even to free Avalon. Which speaks volumes for just how unfit I am to rule. It's not like I'd make a good king, just a better one than my sire, which is a bit like saying I'd be an improvement over Nero. Damn shame for Avalon to be stuck between deranged (my sire) and gutless (me). Who would have ever thought I could be hamstrung by an attack of conscious? There were decades of my life when I hadn't even I possessed one and now when … oh hell and bugger all. I'm trapped in a game I can't win, and I am so sick of killing, so tired of running, so weary of being prey. And then there's something that not even Sea, Wind and Peregrine know - it hurts, body and enaid are linked wounds to one echo in the other. Every waking moment is its own private agony. I finally close his eyes. You said once I'd never break under torture but it has been over hundred years without a breather. That bastard found a way to make my own flesh my torture chamber so that I can never escape Him as long as I live. And even if I kill Him today he'll make damn sure I never get the missing pieces of my enaid back. A thousand years, I could live another thousand years like this. Or if I really am the first ellyllon cyfae I could be like this **FOREVER**. Please, no, please. My ears flicker briefly as the Wind brings my Hector Barbossa's voice. I chuckle mirthlessly. He's whining again about how misjudged and abused he and his pathetic band are. Eight years of numbness – oh, horrors, the poor things. I roll my eyes. It really is **damn** tempting to take out a few of my frustrations on them. Purely for educational purposes, of course, so that they'll actually have some clue of what hell is and something to whine about. I sigh – they're Sparrow's concern I have more than enough on my own plate. Hopeless, it's bloody fucking hopeless. What the hell am I doing this to myself for if I can't win?_

_ Using Argellion's body to hide my movements from Sea, Wind, and Peregrine I slide the dagger back out of my boot. If I can't win the game I can at least make sure I not used as a pawn in it. One final kill, six inches of folded steel up under the ribs and there will be no more 'slings and arrows of outrageous fortune'. Before tonight I had **never** understood Jane's willingness to walk up on that scaffold, never even in the darkest moments in the carchar had I ever considered this. It isn't that I've never considered suicide. I know very well how close I am to becoming the mindless drone my sire had tried to make me. Killing myself ere I can become a tool is a duty. I shift Argellion a bit still using him as cover I pivot the blade into position. One simple motion between me and peaceful oblivion. What the HELL am I doing? How bloody selfish am I? Even if I've run out of hope for myself how DARE I make Argellion, Mannwan's, and the others' sacrifices in vain? Suicide before being recaptured is a pyrrhic victory killing myself now with an entire wild hunt dead around me is basest cowardice. I ram the blade back into its sheath and surge to my feet. I sway a little under his weight. I must be more exhausted than I thought. It'd be so easy to just… I shake off the thought and take the final few steps to the beach. No, not tonight, I'm not ready to yield yet. There are too many ellyllon and cyfae whose hopes are pinned on me for me to give up so easily. Even if they hope in vain. I give Argellion's body into Sea's care and swim out to Peregrine. _

_ Where to?_

I nearly lose the link to the pulse of agony that simple question elicits.

_"Anywhere within fifty miles of Sparrow" I reply as usual not flinching. I have no intention of ever letting Peregrine, Wind or Sea know just what it costs me now to speak to them. My lip twitches in a not smile. Barbossa is chasing that last coin, Sparrow is chasing Barbossa, I'm tagging along just close enough to Sparrow to keep any of our sire's hounds from picking that there's a second child of the Blood out here. The whole damn thing is too pathetic (and ridiculous) for words but unlike my own situation I know exactly how to break this particular cycle. I weave my fingers into the shrouds and listen in spite of the pain to Wind's reports from Port Royal and consider lifting the silence from the gold. Not now. It isn't the opportune moment – yet. Cennan and his bonnie lass have a bit more growing up to do before they come face to face with Barbossa and company. Sorry Sparrow - but I promise, little brother, your happy ending is coming even if mine never will. I turn my back on the island and into the first faint light of dawn. _

"Mallory?" Elizabeth's voice startled both of us and I lost the link "Are you all right?"

How could she even ask? And then it hit me that she wasn't privy to any of what I'd just experienced.

"Perfectly fine" we were back to the cool formal tones from a few nights ago. You'd never know. So cool, so calm, so composed. I remembered his comment about being able to lie all the way to his soul and I believed it now. I **_knew_** the pain and the anguish that were hiding behind that smooth façade and still I doubted them when faced with his casual dismissal. I also knew three things from that brief thought of Jack with an unshakable certainty, first Mallory loved Sparrow with an intensity that was nearly inconceivable, second he was absolutely terrified **for** Sparrow, and third he was almost as frightened **of** Captain Jack Sparrow as he was of their father and I didn't have a clue why.

"Your pardon, milady, for allowing myself to become distracted." My eyes drifted to his booted feet as he and Elizabeth made polite small talk. The dagger that had come within a hair's breadth of ending Mallory's life was one forged by my own hand. Five years ago Brown had lost a drunken wager that had nearly cost us everything. Only a very expensive commission for a dozen daggers had saved the shop. There was no way at the time I could have known the grizzled old captain was Mallory but in retrospect Mr. Bolger's instant dislike was enough proof even without the teasing, laughing twinkle in the man's dark eyes. I didn't know whether to be angry that he'd obviously spied on me or touched that he'd cared. I turned and tried to catch my father's eye but he was starring at the wall. It took me a second to realize that it was the back of a mirror. A quick glance around the room revealed at least a half-dozen others all also turned to face the wall.

I yanked my attention back as Mallory said "But I have yet to answer Bill's question. Now, where was I? Oh, yes Jane…"

_The mere thought of my friends was enough to make me **long **for them and since there was no longer any reason to restrain myself I lit a fire. Mary was easiest since she was right downstairs in the nursery with her so close Wind was swift enough to keep sight and sound nearly matched._

_"Did ye hear it?" Milady Latimer's chamber maid Abigail asked Mary's wet-nurse._

_"Hear what?" she asked shifting Mary to the other breast._

_"Young Lord Rhys' real laugh. I wondered if we'd ever hear that again."_

_"I'd have said Lady Jane took it harder."_

_"And ye'd have been wrong." She shivered "I still remember when The Lady took a shine te him. Those eyes. That child would kill ye slow as soon as look at ye, colder eyes than even his master Skeffington."_

_Mary squirmed as her nurse gripped her a little too tight. "Him, the master o Lord Rhys? Now, I know yer pulling me leg. That gentle lad wouldn't harm a fly."_

_What was it with people calling me gentle today? _

_Abigail just shook her head._

_"They make a right comely couple. Do ye think the Lord Admiral will match 'em?"_

_"Ah, lass but yer new te the ways o the gentry. The lad isn't well bred enough for the King's cousin." _

_I huffed a bit – if the silly git only knew but the truth was **Lord Tallyrand** was just a moderately wealthy land owner with no real connections to any of the great families. And an orphan. Not exactly a good match for the King's cousin, not that it was ever really an option. By the time I was old enough to consummate a marriage Jane would be at least fifty. Besides the mere thought of that and Jane was just…icky. _

_"If she's done I'd like to hold her for a bit" Abigail cradled Mary against her as the wet-nurse left "Ah, ye poor little mite. Yer Ma dead, and if I read young Rhys' eyes aright – t'was yer father that done the deed. Don't know if it's true or not but that lad is uncanny and I think he just might have it aright. But it doesn't rightly matter because **he** believes it and in fight me money is on that lad. And where does that leave you lass? Where does that leave ye?"_

_Actually it was worse than Abigail thought. If I simply killed Tom then little Mary would become one of the wealthiest heiresses is in the country. The bloodthirsty bastards at court would fight over her like the pack of ravenous wolves that they were but I didn't plan to kill Tom with my own hand. I wanted him publicly executed and there was no way he wouldn't be attained first – which would leave Mary not only orphaned but also penniless. As the heiress she would be a pawn shuffled from player to player as the penniless orphan she would be worthless for intrigue but would have no defense against those who wanted revenge against her parents. Milady Latimer had never comprehended just how profoundly certain factions at court had hated her. She had certainly known that she had been in mortal danger on occasion but had trusted that Providence would save her. Having no faith I'd been quite…creative in defense of Milady Latimer. Cromwell would have been impressed. Mannwan had been aghast at what little he knew of my secret campaign. I had no doubt that Argellion had known a fair bit more than I had originally thought and had up to the healing given me his consent by keeping silent. But those were all moot points – Mary's future was the question at hand. Should I leave her mother's murder unavenged for her sake? And more to the point was I **capable** of granting that kind of mercy to Tom?_

_I sighed and left the question unanswered for now as I instead turned my attention to finding Henry. It had been months since I'd 'looked in' on my transplanted rose and I was curious to see how he and his wife were fairing with their new addition. Henry's estate was only a few days' ride away so it took only moments to find the right flame._

_I gave my namesake a critical glance. He looked reasonably healthy and from the quantity of drool he appeared to be teething. At least I hoped it was simply teething – I'd hate to think the poor tyke was going to keep doing that. I flicked my glance away as particularly thick rope of it trailed down onto the blankets. Yuck. While I was honored that Henry had named his firstborn after me (sort of since in point of fact I don't HAVE a name. Damn my grandsire to the Christian Hell.) I am rather firmly of the personal opinion that every person should have their own name. This dynol habit of naming people after someone else annoys me to NO end. Walk up to any random woman on the street and nine times out of ten her name is Mary, Catherine, or Elizabeth. For men it's either John, Henry, or Thomas. The dynol have more names than that so why the bloody Hell **are** all of them named the same damn thing? Dynol are terribly strange._

_I ran critical eyes over the fading Shadow around Henry. It had been a brilliant piece of work. My instructors were still rather flummoxed over how I managed to craft a Shadow that existed completely independent of the caster, one that altered itself gradually in a fluid manner so that over the course of six years Thomas Norrington's features had been so organically blended into Henry's that no one noticed the switch. I really am genius. Reassured that Henry was still content as a country squire (which was a far cry from what he had been born to be) and that for now I had fulfilled my promise to the Countess I turned my wandering eye elsewhere. _

_I considered checking on my own estates and more importantly my stables. If I intended to ride the lists I needed to replace Gavin. My slight stature and feather weight meant that I had to be FAR better than my opponents just to break even in tourney. And that meant I needed an equally superlative horse. Giving that horse to Juan for his escape had been far more of a sacrifice than the weeks with the Inquisition. Perhaps his half-brother Gawain? The irony was that I had originally chosen Gavin over Gawain because I preferred blacks to bays only to have Gavin turn white on me. I had no doubt that Matthew Blake had my stables well in hand and if I was going to Sea I would have neither the time nor the need for war horse. Gran was undoubtedly out to Sea herself and I was still far too angry at Bess to look at her. If it hadn't been for her flirting with Tom he never would have…not that this was ever what Bess had intended but I still wasn't ready to look at her. Vain princess plus ambitious fool equals tragedy. That left only Sandro._

_Fire-gazing so far a field was always a challenge but I've always enjoyed proving the 'impossible' possible. I wasn't sure how long it took but my blood ran cold when I saw the priests in Carlos and Sandro's nursery. NO! _

_I jumped at Jane's gentle touch "Rhys what's wrong?" _

_"I have to go. I'll be back."_

_"Rhys?" They were both still breathing but the priests were performing extreme unction. They weren't expected to live. I had to go. I launched myself out the window but I flung my senses open to Jane by way of apology for my abrupt departure. The sight of the ground rushing by far below initially had her in a panic but the wonder of a bird's eye view soon had her completely enchanted. Personally I was just glad this really did work and that my first wild flight hadn't been a fluke. I let her continue to ride my senses while I turned my attention to the more technical matters. I had always considered my hollow bones a curse. Mannwan's religious views aside they were more than just a nuisance they were a painful liability but they made me **light**. If I had been born with normal bones I doubt even my skills with Wind and Fire would have been sufficient to get me off the ground. I was still undecided if flying was worth the pain but it was something of a moot point. My bones were hollow – since I was stuck with them I might as well reap the only _

_reward. _

_ I could feel my strength waning as I put the Channel far behind me and flew deep into France. As much as I loathed admitting it I had to land and rest before I simply tumbled out of the sky. I touched down discretely and made my way toward the nearby inn before realizing that Jane still had my purse. I pulled off the least impressive of my remaining rings and gave it an appraising glance. It was easily worth ten times the price of a bed and meal in that flea infested excuse for a tavern. What's more it was simply too rich – it would attract all the wrong kind of attention. So do I wrap it in Shadow to be plainer? Or should I just make a few bits of rubbish appear to be coins? Either way I would be leaving something enchanted behind. A minor enchantment but it was still sloppy (but then so was flying off without my purse). Even my Shadows don't last forever and any number of things could happen when the Shadow faded including some poor soul being burned for witchcraft. I must be more weary than I thought to be standing in the street thinking about this. I've stolen fortunes and killed over 200 people. What do I care if some random fool pays the price for my deception after I'm long gone? The key word being random. I don't like random - kills should be purposeful, precise, and planned. The very concept killing someone **ACCIDENTALLY** just felt profoundly wrong. Details, details, the devil is in the details and if you're not very careful he'll win. That statement would make a lot more sense if I actually **believed** in the devil. Blast the religious gloss the link with Jane was giving my thoughts. _

_ I was too **exhausted** for this. My thoughts were spinning in weary circles. I needed to eat even though I had no appetite, I craved sleep, and the longer I tarried the more likely I was to **really **be too late this time. I stiffened as I felt eyes on me and then turned to face the washer woman staring at me across the small square._

_"You'll find neither rest nor comfort at the inn this night, Tywysogion" she stated quietly after crossing to my side._

_True dynol, perhaps even an adhil of peasant stock, though what a half-breed would be doing this far from Bretagne I had no idea. A seer, I might not have any amseru gifts myself but after all those years with Blaenu I certainly knew it when someone with them stood before me. She was lovely. Not in dynol terms but as they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. She might have six teeth left but I doubted it, and the hook on her nose was sharp enough to fish with. Andalusite I decided, her enaid was a pleasing blend of earth tones, orangy-browns, olive greens, with glints of gold and burgundy. She had more 'flash' than some of my instructors – very interesting. And absolutely exquisite, though she could use some fashion tips – **lots** of fashion tips and more teeth._

_"For what's in your hand I will grant you sweet repose, ample sustenance, and the benefit of my sight."_

_I gave her a wary glance._

_"I swear I mean you no harm and you will come to no ill by my hand. No strings – no hidden demands." I might be able to lie all the way to my soul but I doubted this woman could. I tossed her the ring and trudged after her._

_ I woke at moon rise utterly refreshed, ravenous, and a bit surprised. I should have still been feeling the effects long after dawn not bright eyed a few hours later. I canted my head questioningly at my hostess as she handed me a full trencher. _

_"You push yourself far too hard for one so young." _

_"No harder than the situation requires" I allowed in a tone that invited no further comment. I turned my full attention to tidily devouring her absolutely delicious offering. (She really did need to work on her presentation but if I wasn't going to build the Peregrine I'd have offered her a position in my kitchen)_

_"You were in the plygu amseru for nearly a day and a half, Tywysogion."_

_I rapidly revised my opinion – whatever her bloodline this was no peasant's half-breed. Plygu amseru, folding time, took both power and intensive training. Well that explained why I felt so rested and so hungry. For all the stories the dynol tell of men who cross into Avalon and come back out years later when they thought they had only spent a single night (or vice versa) the actual ability to **do** it, the plygu amseru is quite rare. I kept my movements casual but I fanned every sense I had out as the meal turned to lead in my stomach. I've always considered paranoia a survival necessity not a personality flaw and I discretely indulged it to its fullest. I detected nothing amiss but I left myself on high alert._

_"You have until the next sunset to reach the boy but if you succeed in your quest you will only save an enemy."_

_"I go to save a child."_

_"Who will become a thorn in your side. Heal him once to your discomfort, twice at your mortal peril. Do yourself a favor Tywysogion a Avalon – build your ship, sever your link to the English girl, remain at Sea until your father breaths his last and you will lead a life of peace. Cling to your friends and you will have nothing but hardship, pain, and death."_

_"My thanks for your hospitality" I retorted politely before stepping out of the hut and flinging myself back into the sky. _

_ Dawn found me over Pamplona. I promised myself that someday soon when need did not press me that I would savor a sunrise from the air. I tried to push on harder but my reserves were rapidly dwindling and there were still far too many leagues to go. _

_ The sun made the great plain of Spain an oven. While the thermals rising up from the Earth made flying easier they played havoc with my eyes as the air absolutely shimmered around me swirling, swirling…falling?_

_ Owww! My dagger was slicing through my assailant's furry throat before I was even truly awake. Furry? Oh, what an ungodly mess. I blinked the blood out of my eyes and gave the dead ewe with a substantial chunk of my blue hair hanging out of her now slack mouth a sour glance. Stupid sheep. Yuck. While I have been smothered in worse (mardeth spit being my all time least favorite) bloody mud wasn't exactly high on my list either. I glanced at the setting sun and back at the dead sheep. She probably represented half of some poor farmer's collective worldly wealth. Damn but I didn't like leaving debts unsettled. It was sloppy. I didn't even bother brushing at the muck. This outfit was beyond hope and somehow I doubted my wardrobe in Valladolid had survived my execution. I grabbed a handful of dry sand and let it trickle through my fingers. Sand, yellow sand can be made into…citrine. I focus, sand to citrine isn't hard but convincing all of the individual grains to consent is tedious. I left the glittering gem next to the dead sheep and pushed back into the air for the final leg of my journey. Fifteen miles – I'd tumbled out of the sky fifteen miles short of my goal. How terribly vexing – just a few more miles and I wouldn't be covered in sheep's blood. And Sandro would be on his way to recovery. _

_ I was immensely glad that no one witnessed my less than graceful landing. If flying was going to become a regular activity then I was going to have to devote some effort to achieving finesse at it. Two hours until sunset. I briefly entertained the though of going in search of a bath and a change of clothes but decided that just because the seer said I had until sunset didn't mean I should put my personal grooming over Sandro's health. _

_ I nearly tripped over my own feet as I blinked at the empty nursery in shock. Where were the twins and Don Juan? I shoved back the first icy hint of panic. I had nearly two hours to find them. The palace was large but the royal apartments weren't. I sent several breezes swirling in different directions while I slipped across the hall to Carlos the Mad (not to be confused with his cousin Carlos the Plum)'s chambers just in case they were there. Prince Philip's deranged son was sleeping quietly the picture of perfect physical if not mental health. Philip might still be in denial of his firstborn's condition but I'd had a good look at nuts before and I knew irrevocably insane when I saw it. I took advantage of the ewer and basin to at least get the blood off of my hands and then dumped the bloody water out the window. Just I was about to continue prowling the first of my breezes reported back. I parsed quickly through the various servant and courtiers' chatter until Prince Philip's less than dulcet tones caught my attention. _

_"How fare Don Juan and my sister's get?"_

_"Like Don Carlos, Don Juan shows no signs of illness. One of the twins still breaths but he is not expected to last the night."_

**_Please_**_, please be Sandro, it has to be Sandro it isn't sunset yet. Unless the seer couldn't tell them apart either. For the love of God somebody just tell me **where** you've moved them to!_

_"You've been saying that for days and still he lingers."_

_"Speak plainly, my liege, do you wish me to … ease the children's suffering?"_

_There was a pause. So help me, Jane's God as my witness, if he said yes **he** would not survive the night._

_"No, while it would be **convenient** if the fruit of my father's indiscretions ceased to muddy the succession I will not stoop to murdering children. Go. I need to pen a letter of condolence to my sister. And have the priests say more prayers for the boy, that he either make a miraculous recovery or that God ends his suffering quickly." _

_The miraculous recovery had bloody arrived – now if I could just **find** Sandro. _

I nearly lost the link again as Mallory threw his senses wide open. I had actually gotten accustomed to the normal tumult in which Mallory lived but this was a whole new order of magnitude. I wanted to rollup into a ball and whimper but somewhere in the maelstrom he managed to pinpoint the knowledge he needed and the roar subsided. This time when he cut loose at his normal pace I stayed with him as he wove invisibly around the courtiers and servants on a bee line for Sandro.

_ I swept past Carlos' still form lying in a pathetic little huddle in the narrow hall and into the chamber as I wrapped myself in the guise of Lord Tallyrand. A dying room, they'd put a trio of toddlers in a dying room. No bastards, I swore to myself, not when this was their fate. Children should never be inconveniences. Don Juan, Philip's young half-brother blinked up at me, chirped "Reesh", and nearly took me off my feet when he hugged me. Not a bloody adult within shouting distance. I gently disentangled myself from Don Juan and got my first look at what was left of Sandro. I swallowed. Could I heal this? _

_"Sa'dro sick" Don Juan lisped behind me. Now there was an understatement. While a bed and a handful of toys had been moved from the nursery the chamber was still dank, chill, and cheerless. I yanked the ruined doublet over my head, tossed it into the silent fireplace, and set it aflame before gathering Sandro up in my arms. So light, so hot. A year ago he'd outweighed me. He didn't anymore. Where to even begin? His head lolled limply as I settled in the only chair with him tucked tight against my chest. His breath didn't even stir my tangled hair. I pillaged my memory for what exactly Argellion had done that night when I'd died fighting the mardeth. Ever so delicately I wove our enaids together and his flickering light instantly brightened. As his breathing deepened he began to hack desperately trying clear the sludge he was drowning in out of his lungs but he didn't regain consciousness even with me strengthening him. First I needed to ascertain exactly what was wrong. I set a ward on the door just in case someone actually did decide to check on the children and then let my awareness sink into Sandro's fevered flesh. The dynol could talk about miasmas until they went blue in the face infections were caused by incredibly tiny beasts. The problem was you couldn't just destroy them all because some were actually necessary for life. My first challenge was to find and destroy the ones that were actually causing the infection…_

_ I rolled my stiff shoulders wondering if I'd been here hours or moments. Hours was unlikely since no one had touched the door. I rolled Sandro's limp form over and forced the funk to drain from his lungs. His bones felt frailer than my own but his life force gleamed, not yet strong but steady. I couldn't restrain the smile that tugged the corners of my lips as a wave of euphoria washed through me. I kissed his sunken cheek. I would far rather heal than kill._

_Jane – my apologies but I shall be abiding here for at least a month_

_Rhys! They're, they're **papists**._

_I showed her the wasted form in my arms and then I let her see my memories of him. Like most children of the nobility he had been passed off to servants to raise. I was less than impressed with the quality of the 'help' so I'd taken Sandro under my wing and he had blossomed like a desert after a spring rain. The child was more than sharp he was brilliant, absolutely brilliant. He soaked up everything I cared to teach him while avidly seeking more. I had always been a pupil heretofore but Sandro had taught me that there were few joys to compare to a fine student. And the truth was I **enjoyed** teaching. I liked seeing the light come on in my student's eyes when he conquered a particularly difficult puzzle._

_When Christ said 'love your neighbor as yourself' I don't recall him saying anything about papists and protestants I reminded her pointedly._

_She sputtered a bit and thenStay and see him well, but don't forget me!_

_Never I let my indignation flow through the link I am no fickle fairy. No matter what I will NEVER forget my friends, not in a thousand years._

_She replied with a wave of apology and a quick brush of mental 'fingers' which I 'kissed' before letting the link subside to its baseline thrum. My eyes wanted to flutter shut. I had pushed myself hard these last few days and I had more than earned a rest but Don Juan rubbed his tummy and blinked up at me imploringly. I mentally cursed the children's conspicuously absent nurses as I laid Sandro back on the bed, rewrapped myself in Shadow, extinguished the fire I had been sustaining lest Don Juan stumble into it in my absence (besides the chamber had gone from chill to almost too warm), and stepped out into the hall. I didn't like leaving the children alone but Sandro was in desperate need of sustenance and Don Juan was clearly hungry as well. I paused in the corridor where Carlos (the no longer Plum) lay as abandoned as the still living children in the room beyond. I had no time to waste with the dead but I picked him up anyway. There was a little chapel between here and the kitchens. It wouldn't take me long to lay him out. _

_ Well, now I knew where the missing nurse was. I wavered uncertainly on the threshold. I had been seriously considering flaying her alive once I found her. Of course flaying was so very **messy** – perhaps slow roasting - it was much neater. At the very least I had intended to put the fear of God (or the Devil if I deemed it more appropriate) into her for leaving a dieing child alone with only another toddler. I still was less than best pleased but the sight of her prostrate and pleading for mercy from the Madonna for Sandro at least explained her absence. And left me with several quandaries of my own, the most pressing being what to do with Carlos the-no-longer-Plum-and-beginning-to-become-a-bit-ripe. In the course of committing a couple hundred murders I had been in considerably more awkward positions with a body but that was then this was now. I certainly didn't intend to carry him all over the palace and I was loath to leave him in the corridor again. Nor did I wish to send the nurse panicking back to the chamber **now**. So I very quietly slipped forward and tastefully laid Carlos (sadly-no-longer-Plum) out still wrapped in Shadow. With all the candles flickering in the little chapel it would be no problem to keep watch and drop the Shadow at an opportune moment. _

_ Don Juan fell on the pastries I brought like he hadn't been fed in a week. Given the brightness of his enaid and his physical health I was doubtful that he was really that starved but he was hardly my primary concern. A quick check on Sandro showed no sign of the original illness returning. Now the challenge would be to prevent a second infection from taking advantage of his weakened state while he was recovering. I cradled him and this time when I linked our enaids his eyes fluttered weakly open._

_"Reesh?" he went from sickly green-yellow to Caribbean blue. I smiled at him and then started to spoon soup into him. Half a bowl exhausted him but it was a start. My own eyelids were sagging but I needed to keep an eye on Carlos surrounded-by-candles and his nurse and to make some gemstones since I would be needing to pay both for a suitable wardrobe and lodging soon – and my tastes were hardly parsimonious. I opted to leave Sandro in my lap; despite the awkwardness I found the tickle of his breath on my chest reassuring considering how close I'd come to loosing him. I briefly considered sending a note of my own to his mother but realized just how ridiculous the notion was. It was one thing for me to return to England where Spaniards were reviled and scoff at the notion that Lord Tallyrand had been publicly executed it was quite another to write Prince Philip's own sister. Of course the note need not be from 'Lord Tallyrand'. I reminded myself that I was NOT at fault for Carlos surrounded-by-candles' death and that I had only promised to see the children safely here not to hover over them every day of their natural lives. I had no reason to feel guilty, not one. Unfortunately emotions are not always logical. I shifted Sandro just a bit so I could reach into the pot of ashes I'd nicked from the kitchen along with dinner. Milk to pearls was far easier than ashes to diamonds but the milk was undoubtedly part of someone's dinner. No one would miss or care about the ashes, not even the gardener. _

_ I let the bits of charred wood sift through my fingers until I held only the finest ash. Unlike the sand which required no real change in composition the ash contained things that didn't belong in a diamond. In a few minutes I had sufficient purified diemwnt to make several moderate sized diamonds. Now for what separated the apprentices from the masters. I enfolded the ash in a gwagedd and then began applying heat. My own breathing got a touch ragged. If I was being completely honest this was ill considered at best but I managed to hold everything together until the crystals finished growing and then turned the groan from the inevitable headache into a sigh. If my instructors were here I would have made a point of converting the entire pot to diamonds but since I doubted Don Juan would be very impressed I opted to be wise for once and not work myself to unconsciousness. I dropped the handful of small but flawless diamonds into a pouch and decided to try feeding Sandro again. _

_ He graced me with a sleepy smile but I think we ended up wearing more of the soup than he ate since I couldn't seem to keep him awake for any length of time. I finally gave up. I was a mess. I attempted to run the hand that wasn't wrapped around Sandro through my hair but it was too snarled. Or rather what was left of it was since I'd been half shorn by that damn sheep. I should put Sandro to bed, spook his nurse back to her duties, and get myself cleaned up. Except I didn't particularly want to leave Sandro, and it was a perfectly comfortable chair…_

_ Damn – someone has a really impressive set of lungs and absolutely no future as a singer. Oh, it was the nurse. Falling asleep with Sandro on my chest still in the guise of Lord Tallyrand wasn't the stupidest thing I'd ever done but wasn't one of my more brilliant moves either. Poor little Don Juan had no idea what had upset his nurse but he added his voice to the pandemonium. Sandro didn't even stir and that worried me but his enaid had brightened significantly so I decided perhaps it was time to exit stage left. One thing I really had to agree with the Protestants on was the saying of mass in vulgate. I could tell she was trying repeat things she'd heard the priests say but Latin was so garbled it was almost painful to hear. I rocked back a little as she nearly stuffed her crucifix up my nose. She finally started babbling in something that actually resembled a real language._

_"You can't have him, demon, be gone in the name of God." I flinched theatrically, laid Sandro gently on the chair, backed dramatically to the fireplace, and had the Shadow of Lord Tallyrand go up in a suitably spectacular plume of flame. I nearly gave my continued presence in the room away as I fought not laugh at the nurse's reaction. Apparently the nurse's shrieks had finally attracted some attention but I hadn't expected Prince Philip himself nor my old 'friend' Fernando de Valdes the Inquisitor-General. What the **Hell** were either of them doing in **this** part of the Palace?_

_The nurse was in such a state she couldn't speak for several long moments which gave me ample time to observe the situation. It was hard to believe that when I had first arrived in Valladolid I had actually felt a fair bit of sympathy for Philip. Six years my senior he was already a widower and clearly still grieving for the young wife who had died giving birth to Carlos the Mad. Say what you will about arranged marriages but sometimes they do work out. The rich marry to increase power the poor marry for love. I have seen as many arranged marriages go right as love matches go wrong. He had clearly loved and lost her and for what? A mad child who was going to bring him nothing but grief. Philip still had hopes for the child but he was his father I suppose denial was only natural. He was also an unfortunate recipient of the Hapsburg jaw though it wasn't nearly as bad as his father's and to think Charles' father had been called 'the Fair' of course his mother was call 'the Mad' for a reason. Wind had brought me news of her ravings (and her habit of trying to crawl into her dead husband's casket) more than once. I shivered and was very thankful **she** was not a necromancer. The Christian God alone knows what she might have done. One thing I had to grant Philip, he did know how to dress not that it compensated for that Hapsburg face but he couldn't control that. His bereavement was only half of the reason I had pitied Philip. The fact that he was clearly a private person who loathed crowds was the other half. He was a prince and soon to be a king – privacy was and would always be impossible. A few months of Philip's grating personality had drained me of any pity I ever had for him. I could blame my distaste on his religious fanatism but some of my favorite people were religious fanatics. Of course I like them **in spite** of it not because of it. Personally when it came down to it the only Christian I'd ever met with what I considered a 'healthy' attitude to the whole Protestant/Catholic mess was Bess. To quote 'There is only one Jesus Christ. The rest is a dispute over trifles' which, to my mind, pretty much summarized the entire mess. No, the truth was Philip and Ned were caste from the same quill pushing, nit-picking, hovering, holier-than-thou, prig mold and I had no time and no tolerance for either of them. Now I pitied the Kingdoms of Aragon and Castile instead. _

_ Enough of Philip. I shifted my attention to So-Narrow-Minded-He-Could-Look-Through-a-Keyhole-with-BOTH-Eyes Valdes. I had a terrible yen to start humming the tune of 'What do ye do with a Drunken Sailor'. During my three week stay with Valdes and his not so merry men (who really did need some pointers. I'd been terribly disappointed. Given the Inquisition's reputation I had at least expected it to be a learning experience but as far as I could tell the real task of the Inquisition was to stifle creativity. It certainly showed in the inquisitors. NO imagination at all, they were mere technicians – Skeffington had been (in his uniquely twisted way) an artist.) I had determined that one day Valdes would be under my knife but I'd changed my mind at my execution. Again I had to fight not to laugh. Since Juan and his lady's escape hinged on me distracting the pursuit I'd had the lot of them convinced they'd captured the devil himself. In the end Valdes had personally overseen my auto de fe and Philip himself had set my pyre ablaze. Not that I'd really noticed since I'd been far too drunk at the time. Sober I would never have giggled at the flames but damn it – it had tickled which had roused me enough that I'd decided to sing. The repercussions of my little impromptu ballad were still echoing through the court. To the tune of Drunken Sailor I had laid all of the hidden truths bare but I'd also woven in no few lies in as well. Drunk, giddy, and vindictive I had shredded the fragile cloth of civility that allowed the court to function. If I hadn't been so distracted by events in England I'd have been chortling in glee as both Philip and Valdes were forced to completely restructure their power bases as festering rivalries ripped the court apart. The fires I'd lit on my pyre would continue to blaze for years. I was **not** to be trifled with and in this case the song was mightier than the knife. The repercussions of my little ditty were a far more appropriate vengeance than physically torturing Valdes. _

_ The nurse finally managed to stammer out my name and her (somewhat fanciful) version of events. The near panic on Valdes and Philip's parts was absolutely delicious. I hadn't had this much fun in months. Philip recovered first and lifted Sandro roughly from his crib. I quivered as I reined in the urge to kill him for manhandling something casglu. _

_"No fever" he whispered as Sandro's eyes fluttered open. Sandro went green with blue undertones. For some reason I couldn't fathom Sandro liked his taciturn uncle. God knows that while Philip had never been overtly cruel he'd certainly given the child no reason to like him either. He passed the boy off to the nurse. _

_"Prepare the children to accompany me and have the priests cleanse the room."_

_I had completely forgotten that Philip had been ordered to leave his cousin Maximilian and sister Maria whose nuptials I'd missed while in England (pity, that, I rather liked both of them and I loved weddings in general) as regents and join his father in the Netherlands. What was the bloody point of my escorting them all the way here if they were just going to be trotted back to the Netherlands? I sidled closer to Valdes and honing Wind to a fine edge began singing at a whisper so low even he could barely hear it. He still jumped as if I'd set his robes on fire. Philip arched an eyebrow. _

_Valdes coughed and inquired "I thought you were going to leave the children in Maria's care."_

_"My son will stay but if something demonic is stalking my sister's child then it is best he were elsewhere besides this way she can at least comfort herself with the sight of the living child."_

_That gave me a couple of days to get together a wardrobe, find a place for myself in Philip's train, and plenty of spare time to torment Valdes before we left. I still couldn't believe Charles the V was going to be stupid enough to leave the Netherlands to Philip. It looked good on paper. Philip would inherit Spain, a fair bit of Italy, and the Netherlands, he would have France hemmed in on three sides and with the wealth pouring in from the New World odds were good that he could break the back of France. There was just one problem – the free minded Dutch were going to absolutely loath the dogmatic Philip. If he was wise he would let men like Giles de Naussa rule with a free hand and rely on his honor but Philip wouldn't. He was far too controlling a man. His nature would demand that everything bend to his dictates while the Dutch lived and breathed compromise. If Charles the V was wise he would leave the Netherlands to Maximilian. As allies he and Philip would crush France. Oh well no one had asked my advice. If the Hapsburgs wanted to hobble themselves right when they had the opportunity to finally rule the world it was no affair of mine. _

_"And I want to keep the child close."_

"He never did trust him" Mallory said as he looked out over the waves. My God, this time when the past faded into the present I didn't loose the link. The night looked so different through Mallory's eyes and so beautiful. And he was in so much pain.

"You never even hesitated about saving him even after the seer's prophecy?" Elizabeth asked

"Milady" he sighed and I could taste his exasperation with her but none of it bled into his voice. I was tempted to let the link go but I gritted my teeth if he could bear it so could I. He turned and I got my first look at Elizabeth through Mallory's eyes. Golden was my thought topaz was Mallory's. To Mallory's eye she had a brittle, flawed splendor – bright and witty but spoiled and selfish.

Just like so many other courtesans because Bill was absolutely right about that. Peas in a pod Jack had said about he and Elizabeth the truth was it was she and I who were peas in a pod. She had trampled Zander's heart and had lured his men shamelessly to their deaths. As a courtier I could appreciate a well laid plot even as I winced for Zander. I have done the same and worse far too often to throw stones.

"Prophecy isn't fate. Perhaps it is merely sour grapes on my part for my lack of amseru gifts but I put very little stock in prophecy nor would I ever judge a man for a crime he has not yet committed." He watched the flickers in her enaid.

I don't trust her any further than I could throw her but they make a beautiful couple and she loves him. And love covers a multitude of sins.

"It's ironic Sandro spent his whole life trying to prove himself to Pustule."

King Philip had to be over a century dead and Mallory's hatred/contempt still blazed hot at the mere mention of his name. Odd, because in the flashback there had been distaste but no animosity.

As I told Bill she is capable of compassion and caring just as I am and like me she is remorselessly ruthless when it comes to defending what she loves. She would have destroyed Zander and end up old, bitter, and hideous if they had wed. She and Cennan balance each other. They do what a good marriage should – they IMPROVE one another. Sparrow and Anna-Maria will have the same balance – if she doesn't kill him.

"Pustule was terrified of him, of his competence, his popularity, and his brilliance."

I made the argument that she was marrying beneath her station both because it was what Bill needed to hear and what he would understand but the truth is Cennan is the one that wed beneath himself. She is unworthy of him.

My father caught my arm in an iron grip and gave his head a little shake. I swallowed my anger and glanced at my father who looked like he might burst with pride. I suppose it was a compliment. It wasn't as if he actually disliked Elizabeth from what I could gather he found her alternately amusing or exasperating but still admired her pluck if nothing else. And I now knew without a shadow of a doubt just how fond Mallory was of me.

"He even went so far as to make several attempts on Sandro's life all of which I thwarted in spite of the fact that for decades he was the worst thorn in my side" and then sent him mocking notes about it. I always made sure that Pustule knew that it was Draco destroying his plans "and Pustule's greatest asset."

A flutter of red in the midst of Elizabeth's enaid caught his eye. Poor Cennan – a red daughter. Red's are the joy and bane of my existence. Bess, Gran, Sparrow, Marie, and Anna-Maria all red's and all far more trouble than they're worth. He didn't really mean a word of that thought – he loved all of them dearly. Oh Marie He shifted in the casement and I really realized for the first time just HOW much he didn't want to be here. Didn't want to be doing this. And how much he resented having been essentially corned into it. She desperately wants to live and I desperately want to die. It would be so damn easy to just let her pull me under with her. Damn Mannwan and damn the fact that I ever let myself believe in honor and duty because of him. Death would be so much simpler. Since he couldn't have death he wanted solitude. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be lying in Sea's embrace killing a woman he loved. He didn't want to be talking to us. He didn't want to be aboard the Peregrine. And most of all he didn't want to be anywhere near Captain Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl. Again there was that flash of Love/Terror/fear. Why on earth was he afraid of Jack?

"If it had been anyone else standing in my way I would have killed him. I certainly killed Don Juan when he became troublesome. Bess tried every method she could think of to get me to assassinate him. But I wouldn't so the rivers of the Netherlands ran red. If I had been able to turn my full attention to the Netherlands I probably could have beaten him easily but I had a hand in every court and he was too good an opponent for me to beat without giving it my all." Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. And he beat me, no other general ever beat me. Of course it was my own bloody fault – I'm the one who taught him strategy. That thought was accompanied by and odd mix of pride and chagrin.

"Did you heal him a second time?" This time there was a flash of pain instead of exasperation at her question.

"Yes, I did and he betrayed me."

"I thought you said he died for you" I was utterly confused.

"I also said it was complicated. He died for me but only after he betrayed me to my death." He began to cough again and the agony that roared through his chest was more than I could bear and I lost the link.

**Historical Notes:** Carlos Farnese did indeed die sometime before his fourth birthday of illness. Don Juan of Austria was Charles the V's illegitimate son with Barbara Blomberg. He, Alessandro, and Don Carlos were fostered together for several years. Don Carlos was the only child of Philip's marriage to his cousin Maria. Philip was himself already the product of a first cousin marriage from a family 'tree' that was already approaching shrubdum. The notion that a child of a marriage between cousins or siblings will automatically be monstrous is a myth. There are whole tribes in which a cousin is the preferred marriage partner that have no real problems for generations. **_BUT_** once a genetic problem crops up a shallow gene pool becomes a disaster and boy were the Spanish Hapsburgs a disaster. Juana the Mad was not the first (though she was one of the more famous) nutcases in Isabella's (as in the Isabella that bankrolled Columbus' little trip west) family. The Hapsburgs figured Juana's crowns were worth the risk of her metal instability. They were wrong and the combination of their habit of marrying close kin and those genes spelled disaster. Don Carlos was (to the best of my knowledge) the first 'Mad Hapsburg'. According to accounts he was hunchbacked, pigeon-breasted, with a stunted right side of the body. He never progressed much beyond eight mentally but he was infamously sadistic. He roasted small animals alive. He once ran through the stables and put out the eyes of the royal horses. He assaulted woman at random in broad daylight. Philip was finally forced to lock him up where he died raving at 23. Philip then proceeded to marry a girl who was both his cousin and his niece. Their child Philip the III while no prize wasn't completely unhinged. He married his cousin their son married his niece. Their son Carlos II was the last of the Spanish Hapsburgs. Only one of his great grandparents wasn't descended from Juana the Mad. He was known as Carlos the Bewitched. His case of Hapsburg jaw was so sever he was completely incapable of chewing. Philip (and most of his decedents) had digestive complaints poor Carlos not only couldn't chew – he was constantly throwing up because of an already poor stomach. In addition he was impotent, malformed, and hopelessly simple but apparently Juana's genes bred wonderfully true in that like her he would open the caskets of his ancestors a babble to them. His death in 1701 kicked off the War of Spanish Succession (1701-1714). It is this war that Marissa was alluding to earlier.

Fernando de Valdes was Philip's Inquisitor-General but his claim to fame was instituting a _limpieza de sangre_ (the statute of pure blood) which disbarred anyone even _suspected_ of Jewish blood from office and extending the power of the Inquisition over every aspect of public life with Philip's blessing.

The Elizabeth quote is verbatim from a discussion with an ambassador. One thing you have to grant Elizabeth in an age when wars were fought and people burned alive for their religious views she was amazingly tolerant. It was perhaps the biggest difference between her and her sister Bloody Mary. For Mary it was all about religion and she burned martyrs for Elizabeth it was all about politics and she executed traitors.

Philip did in deed restructure his entire court in 1548 but I very much doubt it had anything to do with Ellyllon princes singing wicked songs :).

**Geological/Chemical note: **Since this seems to be the natural history chapter I thought I'd include a quick note on Mallory and his knack for making gemstones. For my purposes Mallory can alter chemical bonds but not basic atomic structure. He can't turn lead into gold because that's an elemental change lead w/82 nuclear protons to gold with 79 but he can turn yellow sand (SiO2 with traces of Fe) to citrine (SiO2 with traces of Fe) fairly easily. Actually with the exception of amethyst (he tends to get amitrines instead much to his annoyance) he could convert sand to any of the basic quartz gems with ease (rock crystal, citrine, morion, smoky quartz, rose quartz, and praziolite) cat's, tiger's and hawk's eye take quite a bit more work on his part and he doesn't often bother. Prior to the near destruction of his earth talents these were the easiest gemstones for him to make but they aren't terribly valuable.

In the 1500's rubies, diamonds, and pearls were the high rollers and as such they are stones Mallory created the most often. Of the three rubies (and sapphires since they're both Al2O3 just with different trace impurities) are actually the easiest for him to make (and were some of the 1st gems to be lab created) but are the hardest to find raw material for since he needs the proper mix of clay and limestone. Like hawk and tiger's eye star rubies require an extra step he only does upon special request. Pearls are harder than rubies but easier than diamonds. Actually Mallory is perhaps the only Ellyllon capable of creating pearls since they are an organic gemstone. He is essentially coupling his earth talents with his healing ones when he makes pearls. In his current state they are the only gemstones his can still create without serious fear of backlash which is why we see him 'paying' in them when he is otherwise short of cash. And the raw material – milk – is relatively cheap and generally available.

Of all gems diamonds are the easiest for him to get the raw materials for and the hardest to actually make. Since a diamond is C4 literally ANYTHING carbon-based will work in theory in practice hearth ashes present an easily available source. The first step, to exclude all contaminants (unless you want colored diamonds but like star rubies and cat's eyes Mallory generally considers them more trouble than they're worth) is tedious for him but not difficult. The second is much more challenging. Diamonds need both extreme pressure, as in 50,000 atmospheres which requires a depth of at least 90 miles (150 kms for the metrically inclined) under the Earth's surface, and heat to form. Mallory has to establish and maintain that force in the palm of his hand. If he slips even a little while the crystals are growing they vaporize into carbon dioxide (incidentally if you get a diamond white hot at 1 atmosphere it also vaporizes). Just for kicks, giggles, and useless trivia purposes the 'host' stone for most diamonds, kimberlite, forms in the upper mantle. Diamonds found in the crust get there by volcanic action. No kimberlite volcanoes have erupted in over 60 million years which is an extremely GOOD thing. For diamonds to reach the surface intact they have to explode through the crust at at LEAST 740 mph (over 2x the speed of sound). The force released by a kimberlite volcano would be absolutely devastating. Making diamonds among the Ellyllon is the absolute pinnacle of Earth Mastery (and something even Mannwan couldn't do). The fact that Mallory could manage to mess up basic metallurgy (something even we humans get) while mastering diamonds had Mannwan discretely pulling his hair out when Mallory wasn't around to see since it's the equivalent of mastering calculus while simultaneously having trouble with basic addition. Mannwan never really figured out how to magically train Mallory who is still something of an idiot savant when it comes to Earth Magic. He either really, really gets it or he's an absolute disaster. Will should be VERY glad Mallory COULDN'T magically help in the forge. He was **much** better off (and safer) with books and Mallory parroting Mannwan's lectures.

**The Natural History of Mardeths**

(Sound of throat clearing) Good evening! I would like to welcome our dynol guests. Let's all be civil about this. No snide comments about aging and no pulling on ear tips. Drygioni, I saw that. Now, as some of you are already aware the mardeth is physiologically quite similar to the Draig. The Draigs lacked the tail spikes and had a neck ridge but otherwise the species were visually the same. The great difference was always in magical ability. The Draigs magical abilities were even greater than their physical ones and as such they were complete masters of their domains. This is not to say that the mardeth is completely lacking in magic but its skills are largely defensive in nature.

This inequality between two otherwise similar species created great tension and animosity. It is rumored that the Great Draig War was actually begun by the mardeths. It is certain that the creation of the Gwaed da Draig and the Ellyllon was done from spite. The Draigs did not want the mardeths to benefit from their demise. This has not endeared our kind to the mardeths. We have the greater magical power but we are far out of our league physically. Fortunately, they can not cross the Atalfa, the Great Barrier, without the invitation of the Royal Houses but they rove the Cynfyd seeking the unwary to devour. That is why all parties traveling outside the Atalfa should be accompanied by at least a myfyriwr daeru and preferably a dysgwr or campwr daeru since escape under Earth is the only option against a mardeth. Drygioni do you have something to share with the class? I didn't think so. Please stop acting like a thirty year old or I shall send you back to the nursery. Only one Ellyllon has ever managed to slay a mardeth in battle, Tywysogion Ariel. He slew Breuddwyd Malu in 1698. He also sorely wounded Brenin Lladdededig in his youth. With Robin Goodfellow's destruction of Gobaith Traflyncu the mardeths are currently without a PenMardeth. Any mardeth wishing to claim the title of their king must perforce slay the Tywysogion. It is rumored that three further mardeths have fallen at his hand.

(Sound of a sheet being swept away) This is a model of a mardeth. Some of our dynol guests may notice a superficial resemblance to the velociraptor. The wings, ears, and tail spikes are the most evident differences but please also note the much more elongated neck and tail, the more substantial forelegs, the wicked claws, **_and_** the difference in size. An adult male mardeth can exceed **eighty** feet in total length. There have been reports that the mardeths' teeth exceed four feet in length – this is a bit of an exaggeration. No mardeth tooth in excess of 2 feet 5 inches has ever been recovered. They prefer to attack from the air but will also fight on the ground. They generally run and attack on their hind legs but are prone to overbalance if they remain upright for extended periods of time. Mardeths are predominantly red but also occur in white, gold, black, green, and most rarely, blue. While the mardeth as a species has no offensive magic its metallic scales are impervious to nearly all forms of magical attack. Mardeths are as intelligent as any Ellyllon and like us individual talents vary across the species. Any questions?

**Cal**I thought you liked Anna-Maria? Do you really want me to drag her away from her dying mother and Jack on their wedding night to hear Mallory tell stories! Particularly when Wind has already informed Jack that Mallory reached Peregrine safely and is feeling at least a little better?

This entire story is told with Will as the narrator. If Will doesn't know it you don't know it. And while I'm not entirely sure what Jack's reaction would be to Will playing the voyeur on the wedding night (he **might** actually find it amusing to show the whelp a few things) I imagine Anna's reaction would be unpleasant for both Will and Jack. Mallory has enough worries without having to put them back together after Anna got done demonstrating what she learned from her swashbuckling godfather. No more Anna until after her wedding night!

It's interesting that you made the Highlander connection I was actually trying to work on my poor, currently abandoned, Highlander fic when Mallory made his appearance in my head and yes both backlash and the moment of the kill are Quickening inspired.

Will is riding the coat-tails of his recent link to Mallory as is Bill. Elizabeth is out in the cold though she is seeing the Shadows and listening to Mallory (and she's getting a far more…edited version than Will is :). Mr. Not Cotton isn't talking so I don't know if he's out in the cold with Elizabeth or in with Will or somewhere betwixt and between.

I have tried to strike a fairly delicate balance in this between making the characters sympathetic to the 21st century eye while still making them true to their times (which means I'm juggling the cats on a tight rope – maybe I should join the circus?). Right now Elizabeth isn't terribly likeable and I will take her back in hand at the opportune moment. Mallory of 1547 is just as much a creature of his times and upbringing as Elizabeth. And Mallory's upbringing prior to 1540 was not a pleasant place. Jack growing up on the streets of Tortuga had a far gentler life than Mallory did. Truth told in 1537 Mallory was on the fast track to becoming the kind of guy that could give Vlad the Impaler and Ivan the Terrible lessons in cruelty and he never quite shakes it completely. Push him the right way and…the results will not be pleasant. All of Mallory's warnings aren't for show. He's well aware of the proverbial monster slinking around in the darker corners of his psyche and he's not above occasional letting it off its leash. As for his attitude - this is after all the age in which to be called Machiavellian was high praise, not an insult. But … we'll save that for later as well.

I must confess I had to look up metrosexual. I'd never heard the term before but the truth is EVERY courtier was a metrosexual. It was sort of a job requirement. Whole fortunes were frittered away on rich garments in a world where appearance was EVERYTHING. And he's STILL a vain, snobby, blue blood, he's just mellowed a little. I'm not sure that anyone is ever _entitled_ to be snobby it would be a miracle if he wasn't – rich, beautiful, talented, and royalty – there's not a lot there to be humble about and he isn't (though he has learned how to fake it ;).

On the cupid thing, yes there is a selfish motivation – but you'll note that Mallory NEVER sees Mr. and Mrs. Peterson and is STILL pleased as punch about matters. Young Mallory was purely selfish about it. 'Modern' Mallory isn't.

As for Mallory being a chauvinist – sheesh this is a time when the scold's bridle was in active use. (A man could go to the magistrate. Declare his wife a scold and they would put an iron plate (sometimes spiked, sometimes not) in her mouth. The plate attached to a pair of rings that locked the plate into place. A rein was also attached to the plate so that at the "gentleman's" whim the spikes could lacerate the tongue. It was considered foolproof for breaking shrews. If nothing else a cruel enough use of it could render a woman mute.) People sent condolences instead of congratulations at the birth of a daughter. Mallory's treatment and attitude toward women is absolutely exemplary for his time. And I had to grin when you made a chauvinistic statement later :) !

Mallory is quite honestly not sure what to make of Blaenu and it doesn't help that Mallory is a touch homophobic. Not let's go 'scrag a fag' homophobic just a little skittish but couple that with Blaenu's sudden zeal and he's making Mallory more than a little nervous just on general principle.

Mannwan was a religious fanatic – narrow minded sort of comes with the territory. He meant well. He's wrong in point of fact – Mallory actually gains a great deal from his time with the dynol. And it isn't just prejudice – anyone Mallory gets attached to is going to die on him and Mannwan wants to spare him that pain. That's why banishment is considered a worse fate than death among the Ellyllon.

As for Mallory's wandering mind – remember that he's literally a half step ahead of everyone. From his perspective the whole world is in slow motion. Play a DVD in slow mo and just imagine all the time you have to think if you had to react to what was happening on the screen.

While I've never ridden a horse with broken ribs I was drug by one when I was 13 over four miles from home. I had to catch the horse, remount, ride home, and cut the boot and stirrup off of my foot before going in for x-rays. It still ranks as one of the most miserable days of my life and the ankle still aches from time to time over fifteen years later. If you had told me there was a child trapped and I needed to ride an extra eight miles to save him – would I have done it? I think so, I certainly hope so, but would I have been cussing a blue streak and been tempted to leave him there and tell someone else to handle it too. Now Mallory is a hell of a lot tougher than I'll ever be but he was also a hell of a lot more hurt. And Mannwan had been hammering him for YEARS about not getting emotionally entangled with humans. His upbringing as an assassin hasn't exactly taught him to respect life. By going after Sandro Mallory is putting himself through another round of self-inflicted torture and risking the displeasure of a teacher whose approval he's trying very hard to win. It would be far easier to leave Sandro. Is it very heroic of Mallory to be willing to leave Carlos who he clearly doesn't particularly like behind? Of course not. But having endured the merest tithe of what I put Mallory through with the mardeth I think it's damn heroic that he went, at all, for anyone. The poor kid DIED for goodness sake and **then** went riding to the rescue!


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Notes: **Sorry to be so late in updating. I'm not sure about the quality but there's plenty of quantity.

**Rose of ****England** Yes, Jane is most **_definitely_** Lady Jane Grey who we saw die back in Chapter 9(a). My bad for not making that clear. Sometimes I forget just how much of a history geek I am.

**Little Bird: **Am I sane? Nope, I'm pretty sure I'm not but that probably makes for a better story and I couldn't abandon this one if I tried. Yes, Jack is named in honor of Mallory's original sparrow who we have not seen the last of since there is a bit more to the story. I think chapter 16ish which is **tentatively** titled The Lady, the Sparrow, and the Rose in which we get to see the very young Mallory and you find out the who's, why's, and whereof's of the Norrington connection. You know, I hadn't actually thought of Jack's response…I'll have to mull on that a bit.

**ErinRua:** Homonyms (and run on sentences) are the bane of my grammatical existence!

**Dragon Hunter:** The journal swipe is _planned_ for the end of Chapter 14. 15 – 19 are slotted as journal chapters. There are vague hints about why Mallory fears Jack but I won't be doing a full reveal until late in the journal.

**Cal**You know the drill ;)

Blood of Avalon: Chap 12: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Part 3 (yes, last one for C12) – A Round of Betrayals

He coughed for a long time, that same driving cough from earlier. Sea was clearly displeased but he wrenched himself out of Her grasp and glared daggers at Her. She melted, literally, under that fierce glower and then reformed almost timidly. I didn't understand a word of what he said but the tone was apologetic. He let her pull him back down.

"The status quo between Sandro and I continued for decades. Knowing myself to be compromised where he was concerned I trained Maurice de Nassau to be his nemesis." There was something odd about his voice and then it hit me – he was using Wind to speak for him again. "Bess and I had one of our many fights in the wake of my 'failure' to destroy every soul that sailed with the Armada. When she sent Bledri out as Drake and lost over 11,000 men and a small fortune and then had the audacity to blame it on me I departed England in a fine fit of temper and focused my entire attention on things in France. On August the 1st 1589 I finally fulfilled the judgment I passed on Henri de Valois in 1559."

This time I was the one who prompted him "What judgment?" As he turned to look at me I was once again lost in his past…

_ I patted Tristram's black shoulder as Gabriel Count de Montgomery's squire passed me a fresh lance. This horse alone proved my trust in Matthew Blake's abilities. Cromwell had thought me mad when I elevated a plough boy to stable master but I knew a marchog, a horse whisperer, when I saw one. My opponent's horse, Malheureux, was prophetically named but then it was I who had named him. I had warned him that the price for betraying me would be more than he could bear. Today was only the beginning. I'd nearly taken the French King out of the saddle on our last pass but I'd held back and he knew it. His wife, Caterina Maria Romula de Medici, called to him, imploring him to quite the field. She had a touch of real Foresight – and amazingly not a drop of Ellyllon blood. She was a wild card but like Cassandra at __Troy__ her warning of impending doom would go unheeded._

I shook my head – something was wrong. Mallory felt…different somehow. I tried to shrug off my uneasiness.

_ I added my voice to hers as I politely requested to be permitted to quit the field. To anyone listening I was the epitome of humble subservience but the glint in my eye made it a challenge that only the king could see._

_"I expect your best effort, Gabriel. That's an **order**."_

_'And you shall have it' I replied silently as I wheeled Tristram. Henri de Valois didn't wait for the trumpets to open the course he merely charged. The fool hadn't even bothered to secure his visor properly. I was almost disappointed he was making it this easy. As we met in a crash of pounding hooves and splintering wood I ever so subtly lifted the lance so that several large splinters radiated upward into his poorly protected face. The real trick was to time it so that the flying splinters struck precisely at the moment when the visor was up. _

_ I turned Tristram again and galloped back to the stricken King were he lay dazed on the field. Perfect. It is no easy task to precisely time the shattering of a lance, the trajectories of the resulting splinters, and the movements of your opponent and his steed. To do it as a dynol would with no magic other than the Shadow that disguised me as the Captain of the Scottish Guard made success sweet indeed. I have no equal, no rival. _

_I flung myself off of Tristram and knelt at his side "Let the hands that committed so base an act be cut from my body. Let my own head be struck off in recompense for the wounds I have given __France__. Forgive me for I have slain thee." My anguished appeal was just short of fawning but retained a touch of dignity. I really do have a knack for bootlicking. _

_The King blinks (or would that be blink since a splinter bigger around than my thumb has thoroughly obliterated one eye?). Pain clearly has not yet set in. It will anon. _

_"Peace. Peace" the words came slowly "my brave knight. I am not angry. It was I who commanded you to ride. There is naught to forgive. You have been a valiant knight. It is an honorable death you have given me." 'If you had honored our agreement' I replied silently 'I wouldn't **be** killing you. You owed your kingdom to my intervention – now you will lose both it and your life.' _

_Romula (as I refer to the current Queen of __France__. I have know legions of Catherines and Marys but Romula is nearly unique) chose that particular moment to join us followed closely by the Dauphin who took one look at his father and promptly fainted. Which at least gave Romula something else to focus on. Pustule was more unfortunate in his heir, Don Carlos the Mad than Henri de Valois but not by much. I trailed behind Anne de Montmorency, Constable of France and Francois, Duke de Guise as they attempted to support Henri de Valois between them but he shook them off. Mortally wounded the King regained his feet while the untouched Dauphin had to be carried. Montmorency did eventually succeed in loaning the King a shoulder while Guise and his niece, young Mary, Queen of Scots had to carry her husband the Dauphin. For he who had eyes to see there was indeed much to be read here. The Guises would now use their niece to control her husband and would thus become the most powerful House in __France__. The current King's fondness for Anne de Montmorency whom he loved like a father had kept the Guises in check. With the King's demise that balance would end. His replacement **should** have been Antoine de Bourbon but he was far too indolent to be equal to the task. The Guises plans would hardly be amiable to my own so young Francis the II's reign will perforce be brief. _

_Ambroise Pare, the royal surgeon, and his assistants were already hovering over Henri de Valois. He was a brave man, you couldn't deny that, he bore their fumbling with impressive courage. Afterward they bled and purged him and then dressed the wound with egg whites, which was much less objectionable than some other dressings I'd seen. If my nightmares are any indication I'm actually more frightened of falling into the hands of a pack of dynol surgeons without my abilities than going another round with a mardeth or being held captive by the Inquisition which rather said something about either the physicians or the Inquisitors. Mayhap it would be more efficient to just have the physicians serve as Inquisitors I'm sure the sick and wounded would be thankful. When the surgeons were done I make my own evaluation of his injuries. None of them were actually mortal, in and of themselves, it was the infections which the surgeons had made worse that were going to kill him. The only question was fast or slow? I could speed up the process but I didn't have anything pressing at the moment so I decided to let him…linger._

_Ten days. I was impressed by his fortitude. His firstborn on the other hand had taken up beating his head against the wall while curled in a fetal ball. He was not the most inspiring future head of state I'd ever beheld. Just as well he wouldn't be ruling for long though in honesty I doubted I'd have to kill him I could probably just let nature take its course. Speaking of nature I had business with Henri de Valois. So, it was time to put on the Shadow of Draco. Mine own face, only altered to match my dynol age of 26, tall, and with the blue hair, pointy-ears, and slit-pupiled eyes accentuated instead of muted. I finished with black on black garments that devoured light overlaid with it a dark caped cowl that cast everything in shadow leaving my eyes glittering pools of emerald light in the depths. I wrapped myself in an outer Shadow and slipped invisibly through the halls. Romula shivered as I entered and searched the room but her eyes passed right over me. Interesting but if she couldn't see me it was irrelevant for the moment. There were rumors that she was a practitioner of the dark arts but such rumors abounded most of them baseless or at least powerless. He was fading fast. I restored sight in the unruptured eye and yanked him back just a bit from the brink of death. I manipulated the Shadow so only he could see through the outer one. He blinked dully for several minutes as if he couldn't quite figure out what had happened but then between the agony and the brain damage he might not. Then his breath quickened as he finally registered my silent presence just inside the door. This is the true test of a Shadow Master to maintain Shadows within Shadows within Shadows and to do so so perfectly that no one is the wiser. I glided forward letting the cape billow just a touch in an imaginary breeze. It was, admittedly, somewhat melodramatic but the dynol are a superstitious people and certain forms are expected. _

_I stopped silently at the foot of the bed and wrapped him in silence so that he could hear only me "I did warn you."_

_He was clearly surprised that he was able to speak. "You said you would kill me before my entire court." There is both courage and defiance in his remaining eye. A pity he betrayed me. He would have been a formidable ally "Is slaying a dying man the best you can do?"_

_I overlaid the Draco Shadow with the one of Gabriel and gave him a mocking bow "But I did slay thee and you forgave me." I let Gabriel fade "And death is only the beginning." I stalked up onto the bed as the Shadow engulfed him "I warned you the consequences would be more than you could bear. Your death is only the **first** cut." I wrapped the cowl around both of us like a pair of great, dark wings as I straddled him. I slid Risanca free of his sheath. _

_The white Draig turned up his nose "Rotting flesh, poisoned blood, we thirst for sweeter meat." I arched my back a bit as his cold fire coiled around me sending icy, burning, numbing fingers through my soul. "Give us the witch woman." I watched Romula with Draig's eyes, considering if I should appease him… No, I wanted to know how she sensed me "later." _

_Henri had followed my gaze "Not Caterina" he snarled weakly "have you no honor?"_

_"No, not Caterina" the faintest hint of a mocking smile ghosted across my face "you have never cared about your wife why should I harm **her**?"_

_I'd never seen anyone go that bleached linen white before with a raging fever. He swallowed and whispered in utter horror "The children."_

_"Only the boys… and the young Scottish queen" I qualified. "I am a monster but I see no cause to kill your daughters. I considered destroying your mistress Diana and Anne de Montmorency since it was for their sakes you defied me but they're the past. I am going to destroy your future. Since the House of __Valois__ has proven faithless I will remove it from the throne and set someone more worthy in your stead."_

_He swallowed and struggled to rise but he was too weakened from his ten day ordeal to challenge a dynol child much less me. I easily caught his hands and pinned them beneath my knees. "And since it is all your fault I'm going to make sure you get to see it." I summoned the red Draig. My earlier forays into necromancy had been pure instinct this time I had a very specific goal in mind. Angnar roared into me and I swayed imprisoned between the red Draig's fire and Nimrais' ice for moment before I reasserted dominance over my own flesh. The red Draig chortled in glee as he read my intention._

_"Allow me" he demanded but I refused to relinquish control of my body to him. He tried to take it anyway but I batted him aside. "Mine" I hissed at him. With a snarl he returned and I felt the knowledge seeping into my mind._

It took everything I had not to scream in terror. I wanted a bath. I wanted to hide under the blankets. I wanted to go to church. Anything to be rid of that, that **_unclean_** influence. It hadn't felt like that when he'd been in the window ledge with Jane and Tom. I gritted my teeth and reached out again…

_I chuckled at the pathetic mortal under me as he gave up struggling and began praying to his God. Maybe if he prayed to me? No, there would be no mercy, could be no mercy. Something muffled and more than half-forgotten stirred in protest but it froze in the chill presence of the white Draig. Mercy was for humans – I was a Draig. I thrust Risanca up under his ribs and let the blade drain him as I trapped his soul binding it to his dying flesh. His spirit writhed finally unmanned by terror and I threw back my head and laughed. Somewhere something protested that it wasn't my laugh but it was faint and the laugh swallowed it up as I began to chant…_

I shoved the link away, shaking. My flesh was crawling. I wanted out of this room, off this boat, and away from Mallory. I couldn't believe I'd once had that foul **_thing_** in my hands. Couldn't believe I'd ever thought it was beautiful and the fact that Mallory even touched much less wielded it made me shudder.

"I bound him in his decaying body and left him to rot with only the visions of his sons' failures and deaths for company." He said in a flatter tone than most people discuss the weather. "And there I left him entombed for over thirty years until the man I had chosen for the throne was ready to rule. I told Bill that what happened to me in Avalon was a merely a result of my being the sole surviving heir and that is true. If I had been a blameless as your Christ I would have been treated no differently but I **never** once claimed to be innocent and there is a certain…justice to my fate. All I have ever claimed was being the lesser evil, and even at my worst, I am that."

"How could you?" I snapped suddenly angry.

He sighed "With ease. The magic involved is actually fairly straightforward."

"That isn't what I meant. And you know it."

"I know" he returned softly "According to the Law of Avalon I was actually merciful."

"Merciful!" Elizabeth retorted.

"I say Brittany but all of France north of the Loire River is part of Avalon including Paris. Under the Brehon Deddf any dynol ruler who breaks faith with a member of the royal house is subject to the Bradwr Arswyd – the Traitor's Horror." He shivered in the window "Legally I could have bound him for eternity and was within my rights to visit any horror I chose upon his descendants unto the hundredth generation."

"What kind of monsters draft laws like that?" Elizabeth breathed.

"The same kind that allows men to be reft from their homes and enslaved" his eyes were adamant "don't make this a challenge because I can assure you milady for every evil I have inflicted or breach in the justice of Brehon Law I can find an example equally horrific and equally legal among your own. No better milady and no worse than most of the men I spent my youth with. Not that that justifies my actions."

I felt utterly betrayed. He had never claimed to be a hero but my heart had insisted that he was one. Now I knew the truth. I had come face to face with the monster. "How could you?" I repeated surprised at how broken I sounded. I continued more stridently "You were the one who taught me the difference between law and justice. You said you didn't bury men alive. That you didn't condemn children for the crimes of their fathers."

I though for a moment that he was going to leave me unanswered by anything but his haunted eyes.

"In truth I did not condemn the children for their father's crime. I allowed them to betray me and then destroyed them for it. He was not buried 'alive' nor did I bury him." The haunted look faded to be replaced by something I couldn't quite define. It wasn't quite pride or defiance. "And in place of his quartet of incompetent, sickly, treacherous, little she-king sons I set best King it has ever been my privilege to meet on the throne of France." Whatever that look was it collapsed back into soul-weariness "who died far too soon. Oh, Henri" A man could drown in the grief in those eyes. A hundred years later and he still mourned. He gave himself a little shake as the parrot squawked at him "Of course Mr. Not Cotton, you're quite right, on with the tale. It was March of 1590 and in the wake of my assassination of the 'She-King of Sodom' Henri had been proclaimed King of France the only problem was France was a nation at war with itself. There are few things like an external threat to stop a civil war so I convinced Pustule to order Sandro and his army into France. This accomplished two goals. It gave Maurice the opportunity he needed to consolidate his gains in the Netherlands against Pustule and it drove the moderate Catholics to Henri. The only problem was I had to keep the Army of Flanders from destroying Henri. For Henri's sake I decided to do what all of Bess's tears, arguments, curses, and bribes could never even make me consider. I decided to assassinate Sandro."

_ I fidgeted as I watched the Duke of __Parma__ sip his wine while discussing the battle with his commanders and then was utterly annoyed with myself. It was irrelevant that the dynol couldn't see me. I was an experienced assassin. I had certainly waited far longer and in less pleasant circumstances for the opportune moment for the kill. Fidgeting and impatience were for **amateurs** which I certainly was not. This kill was no different from any other of the thousand odd murders I had committed in the fifty-seven years of my life. I could feel my lips curling into a rueful smile. Who was I trying to fool? I'd been killing for over fifty years and I couldn't, quite frankly, think of a kill that had made me more nervous including my first. Which was **still** no excuse for fidgeting! I am a Prince of Avalon and I DO NOT FIDGET. Just because I look 12 doesn't mean I am 12 and I wasn't given to fidgeting when I was 12. I focus my attention on my prey and his officers. His enaid was still a lovely blue with green highlights, strong and clear but the years of campaigning for Pustule had not been kind to his flesh. If I hadn't been here to kill him myself I would have been distressed at how thin he was. He was only forty-five, far too young to be so worn but unlike his grandfather his enaid still blazed to the point that I had to strain to see the physical weakness. The enaid was supporting the body – that did not bode well for the future. What the blazes was I thinking! I was here to KILL him. He didn't HAVE a future. I reminded myself that __Alessandro Farnese, Duke of __Parma__ and __Piacenza__, was my enemy, had been my enemy for decades. Even if we had still been friends I had certainly killed men I liked before when circumstances warrented it. I shifted my weight slightly and nearly rolled my eyes. I really was utterly rediculous at times. A shift was a fidgit, a rose was a rose, no matter what you called it. __And an enemy was an enemy. Sentimentality was for the weak. The Hapsburgs were my enemies (even if I did rather enjoy Rudolph in spite of the melancholia he'd picked up while in Pustule's care. The man had no political sense and he was more than a bit mad but he had an absolutely WONDERFUL Kunstkammer. I could (and had) spend hours in it. Between his insanity and his incompetence it was only a matter of time before his brother Matthias usurped his place as the Holy Roman Emperor. While it would be best for his people I would miss Rudolph's quirks when the inevitable occurred. Alright granted I didn't hate **every** Hapsburg. I'd liked Rudolph's father Max a great deal. He'd been a good man but mediocre king at best. But that did nothing to alter the fact that the Duke of __Parma__ was a thorn in my side. It was long past time for me to kill him.) His men finally departed leaving him alone in the tent._

_ I dispelled the covering Shadow slowly leaving the Draco Shadow gradually seeping up out of the darkness. I stood motionless on the periphery of the light thrown by his candle, as yet unnoticed. It wasn't until he began to dip his quill that he realized that he was not alone. I was pleased, but hardly surprised that he went from shocked to determined in an instant._

_"So I finally get to meet the infamous Draco" he observed while his eyes searched for his pistol. Unfortunately for him it was behind me. He glared defiantly into my glowing green eyes "Should I be flattered or offended that you've waited so long? Have you nothing to say? No threats to make?"_

_"I wouldn't insult you by trying to intimidate you" I stated as I let the cowl fade into the night._

_His eyes narrowed as he took in the pointed ears and deep blue hair. "I thought you were too much of coward to show your face."_

_I had discovered years ago that the mere rumor of Draco was often sufficient to frighten the faint hearted into obedience and hence I had cultivated the mystery of the faceless cowled figure with the glowing eyes. I shrugged "I prefer to do my killing face to face, unlike your master who hides like a monk in his cell and dispatches others to suffer in his place."_

_No hesitation in his eyes as he gripped the hilt of his sword, in spite of the fact I've killed men he knows were far better swordsmen than he. 'Damn you, __Parma__. Why couldn't you have been just a little less loyal to Pustule?' but I made sure none of my own misgivings reached my eyes._

_"I confess, I'm curious what does an elf have to gain by supporting a rebellion?"_

_"It isn't rebellion when one expels a usurper."_

_His only reply was an arched brow._

_"My realm encompasses all of the __British Isles__ plus all the lands between the mouth of the __Loire__ and the mouth of the __Rhine__. Humans rule in my lands by my sufferance and it is my right to tear down any regime that challenges my authority. I had no quarrel with your uncle until he made one with me."_

_"And you are?"_

_I canted my head "Do you actually expect me to give you my name?" which sounded better than confessing that I didn't have one._

_"Does it really matter if you're going to kill me anyway?"_

_"Names always matter, Sandro" and it was a mistake to say his. Both because it reminded me that he'd once been the closest thing I had to a little brother and because that familiar address clearly pricked his curiosity. Entirely too much chatter. I slid Risanca free of his sheath and instead of inviting as was my usual wont I went immediately on the offensive to the high inside. I fell back not because he was a better swordsman but because for the first time in my life I had faltered. He pressed forward attempting to engage me in the fourth but I disengaged fluidly and slashed his cheek. His head snapped back in surprise. If with my much shorter blade I could slash his face then I could have slit his throat, which is what I had intended but I had **again** failed to follow through. What the hell! I feinted toward the other cheek and then cut to his flank. I could have easily crippled him but I didn't even break the skin. _

_While I'm all for playing with one's food Nimrais commented I'm getting the distinct impression I'm going to go hungry tonight. What's the matter – have you gone soft?_

_I ignored the impertinent lizard while parrying fifth, retreating, and riposting to the high inside. He counter parried and made a circular cut to the abdomen which I easily countered and returned in kind except I left a long thin slash across his belly. _

_Oooh, how **scary**. I'm not even sure I can bear to watch. The carnage, the horror was Nimrais' scathing commentary while Angnar apparently having decided that I HAD gone soft made an attempt at possession and got his interloping 'ghostly' snout more than just scorched for it. Gone soft my ass._

_I seized Sandro's blade with my own. I tried to flick the sword out of his hands but knowing it was his only hope he clung to it like a barnacle. His determination was admirable but at fourteen I'd already been stronger than most adult dynol now at fifty-seven no dynol had a prayer in a test of strength. The blade finally went flying. His wrist wasn't broken but he wouldn't be swinging a sword any time soon either. I tightened my own grip on Risanca as I drew him back for the finally strike. And paused, staring into his cold eyes. He was my enemy; he was the boy who had lay dying on my breast. He was the one facing death but I was the one trembling. _

_The white dragon tsked How terribly awkward he hissed mockingly. This really was too ludicrous for words. I was no fainting violet. I'd been dealing death for nearly as long as I could remember and between murder, intrigue, and battle I could no longer even count my dead. What did one more matter? I couldn't do it. Before he could react I slugged him across the jaw. I could have lulled him to sleep but the bruises would lend more credence to his story. I slipped Risanca back into his sheath certain that I had not even begun to hear about this night from Nimrais. I pulled out my garrotes and proceeded to tie his wrists and ankles. Damn but I had finally found a use for the stupid things. Over fifty years ago Cromwell had insisted that every assassin must have a proper garrote and so I had dutifully carried several around unused for decades. Actually that brought up a very good point – how old were these? Well, they still seemed to be intact. I gagged him with one of my red silk handkerchiefs and then rocked back onto my heels, thinking. I hadn't planned on not being able to kill him so what the bloody blazes do I **do** with him? This was damn annoying. It would be **so** much simpler if I could just gut him. I hitched him up onto my shoulder and set out into the night. _

_ Galahad nickered at my approach. His velvet lips made short work of the dried apples I offered him as I found a brush and began to groom him. Most nobles left this to the servants and even I had a boy to care for Galahad when I couldn't but this was a pleasure I reserved for myself whenever possible. Mind you I was enough of a noble to leave the actual mucking to Jacques. The Arabs believe that Allah captured the south wind to create horses. I could almost believe it of Galahad. Perfection, absolute perfection. My wealth and Matthew Blake's skill had combined to produce the finest war-horse I had ever seen. I had owned many horses through the years but no other had even come close to this one. I grabbed the curry comb to clean out the brush. In spite of the fact it was mid-march he was already shedding his winter coat. He leaned into the stroke obviously enjoying the attention. Both our nostrils flared and Galahad whickered a greeting to Henri and took a slurp of water. One of these days I was going to hog-tie him, bath him, and put a Gorchymyn on him to lay off the bloody garlic. I **like** garlic, I do, but in MODERATION. Henri did not know the meaning of moderation. I had been informed, at length, that he was a proper Gascon and that not being Gascon I simply couldn't comprehend their ability to live passionately. What**ever**. And I still hadn't figured out what being passionate had to do with garlic or an aversion to bathing. He set the lamp down eyeing Galahad warily but Galahad knew how to wait for the opportune moment. _

_"I thought I'd find you sulking out here with your one true love."_

_"Well" I forced a playful lilt into my voice "at least I'm more faithful than some." I had no real enthusiasm for this. Bantering about Henri's amorous affairs and my lack thereof was a bit like slipping into an old pair of boots, usually comfortable (if predictable) but tonight it merely felt worn, thin, and shabby. I hated shabby. Come to think of it I didn't much care for worn either. Henri's head came up and he stepped closer. Galahad perceiving that the target was now in range soaked him. Good horse, I patted his flank where Henri couldn't see and promised him some more apples later. Henri glared at both of us. _

_"I swear you trained him to do that."_

_Well, in point of fact I had but I had no intention of confessing "No offense Henri, but when a **horse** tells you that you need a bath…" I didn't even bother finishing the thought. It wasn't as if we hadn't had this particular discussion in a hundred different permutations. I went back to brushing Galahad and ended up in a cloud of black horse hair, at least it blended into what I was wearing. _

_"Gabriel?" I might as well have put out a pamphlet that something was bothering me and Henri was the one person that I'd actually let call me on my moods._

_"I would have though you would be indisposed with the blond until dawn" at some point I was going to have to tell him._

_He shrugged "She did not share my stamina and is quite fatigued so I thought I would see if you had returned from behind the enemy lines." He stepped closer and the pong of lust, body odor, and garlic was enough to make my eyes water. Without thinking I turned the Wind so that I was upwind and then shivered under the blast of the East Wind._

_He chuckled at me "And you call **me** superstitious. What harm is there in a breeze from the east?"_

_There was no reply to that that did not put me on dangerous ground since Henri had no idea I was Draco. It wasn't the East Wind as such that disturbed me. It was the news it brought. The East Wind was a Russian Wind and the news from __Russia__, in my experience, hadn't been pleasant in decades. In my life I had had a grand total of four years without either torture, murder, or war. I had fought in more battles or skirmishes than I wanted to count. I had survived the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre, not as Henri had in a locked room, but on the streets of __Paris__. I had been in Naarden. I was no stranger to carnage, no innocent. It took a great deal to turn my stomach, Ivan had managed it. Bess had wanted an alliance with __Russia__ (God alone knew why. Personally if a man's own subjects called him 'the Terrible' I didn't consider him someone to pal around with but never mind me). Since I was the only one who'd actually been there I had dutifully (if protestingly) added the Russian embassy to my already overfull plate. I was accustomed to men who held life cheap and madness in royalty was more common than sanity. I had tried to ignore Ivan's…excesses. Six years ago I had finally snapped and assassinated the czar. My only regret was that I hadn't done it BEFORE he killed his heir. Of course I hadn't expected him to beat poor Ivanovitch's head in either but that had left the throne to Foedor who was incapable of ruling… and dying. Civil war in __Russia__ was only a matter of time. It was…NOT. MY. PROBLEM. So Ivan had died a few years early, it wasn't as if that **changed** a damn thing except giving Boris a chance to establish himself before Foedor died. It WAS NOT my responsibility to help him. I had more than enough trouble to manage right here thank you very much. Apparently I'd been silent too long because Henri took another step toward me while looking at me like a horse that might bolt if he moved too fast. Galahad took another slurp of water while he was distracted. _

_"What harm is there in taking a bath?" I briefly considered conjuring up another rain cloud but there was a limit to how often I could do that before Henri became suspicious. _

_He relaxed a little just out of Galahad's range and shrugged. "You know, this is what you pay Jacques for."_

_I glared and had Wind blow a handful of horse hair at him._

_"Your pardon, I wouldn't dream of coming between you and your beloved." He waited for my usual mock grumbling reply – in vain. I was being terribly catty, in truth, I was acting like bloody Bess. I sighed and leaned against Galahad's shoulder eyes closed. I could still 'see' his approach. Soothing green with flickers of red. Enaids tended to reflect personalities or personalities reflect enaids. I could never quite decide which given that it was a sort of chicken and egg question. Green/red wasn't something you saw very often. Green/yellow was common, green/blue was rarer but not unusual. Henri sputtered indignantly while Galahad whickered mischievously and nuzzled my shoulder with his still dripping muzzle. I palmed him another apple. _

_"You **did** train him to do that!" Henri groused at me. _

_I shrugged "And?"_

_"You're not wounded are you?" the sudden worry in Henri's voice got an instant response._

_"No, not a scratch, I'm fine."_

_Henri just looked down his oversized nose at me while Galahad quietly reloaded. Back when he was merely the King of __Navarre__ we'd joked that his nose was bigger than his kingdom. Damn it, why was I acting like a wilting violet? I'd never been this bloody upset over KILLING someone (well maybe the reduction of Rathlin but that was neither here nor there) so why the hell was I tying myself in knots over **not** killing someone? And why couldn't Henri be off slaking his lust with that wench he'd taken a fancy to while I got myself back together? _

_"Did you run into trouble spiking the guns?"_

_I shook my head. Spiking the guns, the only thing Henri had actually ASKED me to do, had gone off without a hitch. Mind you we would still probably end up facing artillery since that they could (with difficulty) unspike the guns but it would take time. They probably wouldn't be very happy about the condition of their gunpowder either. I couldn't destroy it **all** without resorting to magic (which was cheating) or a VERY unsubtle explosion so I had settled for soaking about a third of it. Between unspiking the guns and sorting the usable from the unusable gunpowder we should have at least a half-hour without having to worry about artillery. Given that we were both outnumbered and outgunned those minutes were likely to be crucial. We had been (potentially) out generalled as well but no one was going to find Sandro in time for the battle and I'd 'fed' Nimrais a few key commanders. Not that that had saved me from the sharper side of his tongue but that was the least of my concerns. On the bright side Angnar had been very, very quiet._

_I didn't rip his arm out of his socket as he wrapped it around me but I did wish that I didn't need to breath. _

_"It has been my experience that nothing improves my spirits like a good ride, and don't mean that nag of yours either." Galahad chose that particular moment to give him another soaking. He glared and then went back to trying to herd me towards camp but I dug in my heels. Me to the Earth and Earth to me. These were **MY** lands Henri would have more luck moving a mountain than budging me now. Earth and I might never have the relationship I had with Wind and Sea but just the bone deep thrum of 'home' was comforting. Henri gave up trying to move me away from Galahad and turned to face me. One of these days I was going to convince him that it was unseemly for a King to wander about in his nightshirt and nothing else. This would happen around the same time I convinced him that daily bathing was good and garlic was bad. Far more troubling was the thought that an assassin could kill him while he wandered about unescorted. And his toes had to be full of horse hair. My own curled in my boots at the mere thought. _

_"I'm certain it wouldn't take much to convince that lovely little red head to indulge you."_

_Given that I'd practically had to peel her off me to go on my jaunt behind enemy lines that was probably accurate. Unless of course she was in 'woman scorned' mode but I doubted that, I'd had years of practice saying no inoffensively. It would be just my luck if in another ten to fifteen years when I was actually old enough for a little 'action' the opportunities would vanish. _

_"She really is a charming little thing. If she hadn't so clearly had her eye on you I might have taken her myself." That was less of a compliment than most would think. Henri only appeared to have three criteria for bedding someone. They had to be female, human, and under sixty. I was willing to bet the sixty was flexible._

_The fact that she'd snubbed the (uncrowned) King of __France__ for one of his (apparent) lieutenants indicated a legitimate attraction (or else she just hadn't been able to stomach the smell) instead of mere golddiggery. Not that it mattered I was too blasted YOUNG for certain things which wasn't exactly easy to explain since I wasn't about to tell Henri I was a changeling. _

_He sighed "Fine. Stay out here and braid ribbons and bells into your pretty pony's mane then."_

_I froze, stock still. He didn't know about **that**. He couldn't, he mustn't. Everyone else who had been there that night was dead, by my own hand. I restrained a shiver, feeling their hands on me again and the 'She-King of __Sodom__'s hot breath on my ear. In the grand scheme of mistakes I have made it was relatively minor – meaning the only one I'd hurt was me as opposed to when I really mess up get other people killed. And really, there was **no permanent harm done** so why did the memory have me fighting to control my breathing? I am a PRINCE OF AVALON. I do NOT panic over things long since done. Honestly! Get a bloody grip! The plan had been to distract Henri III (better known as either 'The King of Trifles', 'The She-King of __Sodom__', or 'The Hairdresser Ordinar' depending who you asked) and his pack of pretty boys while Henri made a narrow escape. There hadn't been time to construct a golem, it was too soon to kill them, singing them to sleep was problematical so I'd been the distraction. After all Romula had been using her 'flying squadron' of loose-virtued beauties to control the court for decades and I was certainly more to 'the King of Trifles' taste than any of his mother's women. Well, once I rounded my pupils and added a couple of years to my apparent age. The King of Trifles had been more flexible than most about which sex warmed his bed but he drew the line at prepubescent. I had had no doubts at all that he would find me absolutely captivating and my hair fascinating. Given his tendency to play with hair for hours I had had every confidence that Henri would well away before I actually had to…'pony up'. What I hadn't allowed for (though I really should have expected it) was for Henri to 'dally' with a lady in the middle of a bloody escape! So I'd flirted, batted my eyes, and cavorted with a half-dozen of his mingons while the King himself wove jingle bells and white ribbons into my 'exquisite blue mane'. Unfortunately one can only play coy for so long before you either have to flee or go all the way. _

_"You're so pretty" the Duke d'Epernon cooed. It was hard to take someone seriously when there was a lap dog in a bejeweled basket dangling from his shoulders. I had seen some spectacularly stupid things done in the name of fashion but the lap dogs in baskets tied on ribbons to one's doublet was truly beyond the pale. I batted my eyes and gave a winsome smile while I really just wanted to crawl away and retch. I must have turned my head a bit because the bells jingled and the King of Trifles made an exasperated sound. Epernon ignored him and leaned in for a kiss. I managed to make my dodge seem teasing and realized that in a lifetime of lies tonight was likely to be my greatest performance._

_I forced the memories of those damn jingle bells away and promised myself that no one was ever going to put anything in my hair ever again. No bells, no beads, no ribbons, **nothing**. I'd avoided Henri for days afterward until I was sure I could speak to the ungrateful lout without ripping his head off or gelding him. _

_Anne de Joyeuse's hands on my shoulders. Epernon behind me NOT NOW. I had thought all those years in the torture chamber had taught me the fundamental truth that the body is a tool nothing more. Playing the whore when necessary should be no different. Clearly I had yet to learn that and equally clearly I needed to deal with these memories and this problem. Wounds left to fester eventually bust at the most inopportune of moments. But not tonight, and not with Henri. So what do I tell him? Because there was no way he was just going to leave this alone with a battle in the morning. You don't let friends ride into battle in this frame of mind – at least not if you could help it._

_Henri knew that I was a spy and an assassin he just didn't know I was the infamous Draco so why not admit that I had planned to kill Sandro? I sighed "I had intended to kill __Parma__. I had him weaponless in front of me and I just couldn't do it."_

_Several long minutes of silence, maybe confessing to letting the King of Trifles use me as a plaything might have been better? No, because then Henri would figure out why and be apologetic and guilt ridden. One of us moping was more than enough. He could brood later. Evidently it was my turn now._

_He muttered a prayer of thanksgiving. ? I had spent my entire life surrounded by religious fanatics of various types. I liked to think that while I don't truly understand them I can predict their behavior. This was NOT the reaction I had expected._

_"You don't know how long I've prayed for this."_

_I am a Prince of Avalon I do not, under any circumstances, look or sound like a slack jawed idiot even when utterly confused. _

_"You've been praying that I'll loose my nerve and not kill one of your enemies after successfully defeating him in a duel?" _

_"Not exactly" he drew in a deep breath and licked his mustached lips in a rare nervous gesture. "Did you know that you frightened me more than the sea that day in '68 when saved me from drowning? There is a…a darkness in you, Gabriel that can freeze a man to his marrow and I swore I'd have as little to do with you as possible. But after that horrible day in '72 when you saved my life again I realized there was more than just darkness. Sometimes it's as if archangels and demons wage a war in your eyes 'Riel and the more I watched the more I found myself interceding for the angels." He swallowed "I know it sounds mad and presumptuous but in the last twenty years I've watched the darkness recede like the tide from a beach leaving someone"_

_I swore to his, Jane's, and Milady Latimer's God if he said gentle I was going to replace his nose with this brush. I hadn't a clue how to do it – but I'd find a way. I was saved from trying to decide if it should be bristles in or out by his next words._

_"I have been privileged to know. But I've wondered for years if there was anyone you wouldn't kill." He caught my eye "Everyone should have a line they won't cross 'Riel and I prayed you weren't that far gone." He smiled ruefully "I confess I wish you had picked a different man and a better time but the Lord works in mysterious ways."_

_I wasn't sure why, but the insinuation that this was his God's doing made me angry and I turned back to finish grooming Galahad. If I'd learned nothing else I'd learned that scoffing at a fanatic's faith gets you no where but I spoke anyway "So God wants to rid his people of their protector" I bit off the rest before I said something Henri would find unforgivably blasphemous. _

_"Oh, Gabriel, what a burden you've taken on. Don't you understand? God takes care of his own."_

_The brush cracked and splintered in my hand as I fought not to scream back at him. Milady Latimer hadn't wanted to die, she had wanted to watch her daughter grow up, had wanted to grow old with Tom. Where had her God been when Tom poisoned her? Jane, I could never decide if Jane had truly wanted to die or if she'd been trying to prove something to me by walking up that scaffold but her God hadn't saved her from the ax. Giles de Naussa hadn't wanted a dagger in the belly but his God hadn't saved him either. And all the children, basketfuls, floating dead in the __Seine__ in the wake of St. Bartholomew's. I'd tried that night to save them. **I** had saved a few, too few, what did a couple hundred matter in a slaughter of thousands? But it was more than I had seen their beloved God save. I couldn't even name the dead any more but I was haunted by their faces, sacrifices of living flesh on the pyres and battlefields of __Europe__. The Protestants were hopelessly outnumbered and if their God couldn't be bothered to bestir Himself then I would, for Jane and all the others. I tossed the ruined brush aside and turned to face him._

_"Not that I can tell."_

_No argument from Henri as he watched me silently "What was her name?"_

_My mental reply was 'which one' since I could easily rattle off dozens of names of good women who'd died horribly too damn young for their faith. "What makes you think this is over a woman?"_

_"I've always wondered why a man not of our faith so rabidly defended it and about why you stay aloof from the ladies. This is about vengeance for you, isn't it 'Riel?"_

_I could probably lie about it – but why? "**Not** entirely."_

_"I should order you to quit the field tomorrow" _

_ORDER! I shrieked silently – who did the upstart think he was? A king of __France__ ruled only by the grace of House Penthalion as the House of __Valois__ could vouch. _

_"That you might see for yourself that God can care for His own without your help." My guts knotted at the thought of Henri in battle tomorrow without me to guard his back. Henri had certainly ridden into battle without me before but never against such odds. It would be the supreme irony if I was left in the same tumbled down peasant's hut that I'd stashed Sandro in. Of course Henri didn't know he couldn't hold me captive. I could easily replace someone else on the field but Henri wouldn't trust a stranger the way he did Gabriel. Not another, please, not another Jane. We certainly weren't linked the way Jane and I had been. I'd sworn that I would never let anyone that far in again but Henri was close. And the thought of him dying in front of me to make a point made me want to rip something apart, preferably something Spanish._

_"But I wouldn't know what to do without you at my left hand."_

_I breathed a sigh of relief._

_"It's terribly selfish of me though to let you continue to bear such a burden."_

_"I have strong shoulders, Henri. I'll be fine." _

_"Vengeance belongs to the Lord, not for His sake but for ours. Revenge twists a man's heart, 'Riel. I can see it in your eyes and your actions. You had a gentle soul once." _

_I picked up what was left of the brush. You know, the brush might actually be an improvement. Bristles out would match his beard and mustache but bristles in would…Henri interrupted my consideration of the aesthetics or lack thereof of noses versus brushes._

_"The last time you got that glint in your eye I woke up with the worst hangover of my life and Phillippe screeching at me for sending a letter of excommunication to the pope."_

_"He excommunicated you first" I rebutted. How do I connect the wood to flesh? Should I cover the brush in Shadow or make it obvious? _

_"**He** has the authority. I don't." _

_I couldn't help snickering. The look on Sixtus V's face when I handed him that letter and when he was informed that copies had been plastered throughout the city had been…absolutely priceless. _

_"I thought we made a very good argument. We were exceptionally eloquent."_

_"We were drunk."_

_'No, you were beyond drunk' I replied mentally 'I was just doing a superlative job of faking it' I said "But we were witty." And Bess, the only one to whom I could reveal the full story, still burst out laughing every time she got a missive from Rome. No matter how much Bess and I fought, hell sometimes even when we were fighting, we could always laugh together. That should frighten someone – I just wasn't sure who. Bess understood me better than anyone. Sometimes that was a good thing, sometimes it wasn't since she had her own agenda for both me and my gifts. Poor Henri, on the other hand, still didn't know the half of what I'd done in __Rome__. There were few things more entertaining than visiting confusion upon one's enemies…and wasn't that a WONDERFUL thought. I could feel an absolutely wicked grin tugging at the corners of my lips._

_"Gabriel? What are you planning?" _

_"I'm heading behind the lines again. I'll be back by dawn. Do me a favor and finish grooming Galahad." I tossed him the brush (it wasn't worth the effort anyway) and took advantage of his momentary inattention to make my escape._

_"Gabriel! I **hate** when you do" he sputtered as Galahad soaked him again. He was still muttering threats at my horse as I slipped into the Spanish camp._

_ "Henri – why am I breaking into a windmill when we're supposed to be fighting a battle?"_

_He swept past me as I flung the door open "I want to survey the enemy position."_

_"But I was just behind the lines and provided you with the full battle plans" I complained from the base of the decrepit ladder. I wasn't sure the thing would support my weight much less Henri's._

_"I'll only be a moment." _

_I'd heard **that** before, far too often. Of course there weren't any women up there so it might actually be true. I considered beating my head against the ladder but that was both pointless and far too undignified. Instead I started up the ladder intent on dragging that Gascon fool back down before they unspiked the guns and he squandered my gains. At least the guns I'd wrangled from Bess were pounding away at the enemy with impunity. Damn her and her diamond fetish. If anyone else had come asking for guns for Henri she would have handed them over after some theatrical hand wringing. Bess was far too sharp not to know Henri would be her best possible ally on the French throne. But it had been me and she'd demanded payment in the form of a chest of diamonds. A diamond here or there was no great difficultly but by the time I'd made scores it had felt like someone had rammed a red-hot poker up my nose, given my brains a good stir, ripped them out, and replaced them with acid and molasses. I'd barely been able to form coherent thoughts for hours. If the damn guns hadn't been functional I'd have…done absolutely nothing. One of these days I was going to have to stop letting Bess use me as an Ellyllon carpet. She walked over me more often than she did the bloody rushes in __Whitehall__. For all my…was that…I ducked as a cannon ball ripped through the windmill, passing within inches of my nose and showering me with debris. I swallowed with my heart beating far too fast. _

_"It appears they've unspiked one of the guns."_

_"Thanks for the dispatch, master of the bloody obvious. Now can we please just fight the battle instead of making ourselves targets?" I snapped around the lump in my throat. This windmill was the tallest thing in on our side so they were using it to sight the bloody gun. I was convinced Henri did this stupid shite just to rile me. _

_That damned mad Gascon just grinned down at me, "I don't believe it. You're actually spooked."_

_"The battle, Henri" I growled up at him. I hated artillery. I could silence every gun on the field, forever, with a thought but I wouldn't, not because I wasn't tempted to, but because they were the one thing against which I was as vulnerable as any dynol. I was faster, stronger, better trained, better equipped, and better mounted than anyone on the field. That didn't make me invulnerable but in did give me a substantial advantage. The cannons were the great equalizers. Henri's grin grew but he slid down what was left of the ladder. "You know if you shared my religion you'd have no need to fear death."_

_I didn't hit him – but it was a near run thing as I strode back out into the sunlight. _

_ Jacques and Gaspar were blinking at the windmill in horror as we emerged. I swung aboard Galahad and gathered the reins from Jacques. I gave him a little shove towards camp with my foot. Honestly, you'd think it was the lad's first battle not his sixth in as many months. Lad – the boy looked older than I did even if I was one of the oldest 'men' on the field. Galahad tossed his head, eager for the fight while Henri's ill-tempered, hammer-headed bay tried to eat my leg. He'd have probably broken his teeth on the armor Mannwan had forged for me if I'd let him. I whirled Galahad and led the way back to our lines. The men snapped to attention as we cantered past the Huguenots white ranks. The army we faced was a mismatched motley crew from four different countries but it outnumbered us 3 to 1. Sandro's Army of __Flanders__ was a well disciplined machine which on one hand made them dangerous opponents. On the other hand they were also (without Sandro's genius to guide them) utterly predictable. To their left were the __Holy Roman Empire__ divisions and Swiss mercenaries. The Swiss were well trained but they were also Lutherans and thus sympathetic to us. They would defend themselves but would be less than enthusiastic about attacking. The rabble from the __Holy Roman Empire__ were little more than peasants with pitchforks and were already ready to bolt. The French Catholic League forces were nearly as battle hardened as their Spanish counterparts in the Army of __Flanders__ and they were fanatics fighting for their homeland. The Army of __Flanders__ would retreat if pushed too hard but the French forces might very well make this a fight to the death. There was a cheer as one of my British gun crews picked off our foes only functioning cannon. I whooped along with the rest and then grinned as a spark set off my little 'project' from last night. One of the downfalls of predictability is that your enemy can use it to his advantage. All that precisely placed gunpowder mingled with a little creativity, a bit of this and a dash of that and – voila!_

_It began as a plume of rich smoke which formed a dark cloud through which the spring sun was only a faint glimmer. Silence swept the field as even the guns crews paused to watch. Just as the guns roared again the first round of rockets went off slamming, as I intended, into the flank of the light horse. Most of their 7000 horse bolted right into the rear of the French infantry, turning that entire side of the field into a shambles. A second roar of rockets this time the plume of white smoke formed the vague outline of a man towering above the peasant rabble. The hair on my own neck rose at the banshee wail of the noise makers and I was the one who'd made the damn things. The entire right flank collapsed as the Swiss joined the rabble in flight. That left their gun crews with their still crippled guns and the Army of __Flanders__ intact though it was only a matter of time until the French Catholic League troops got themselves sorted out since there was no real harm being done by my fireworks display. Even now with the Swiss retreating we were badly out numbered. Another flourish of rockets whistled into the air just as the cavalry was getting itself sorted out. This really would have looked better after dark but I particularly liked the swan rockets. I should probably put all the stuff I learned in the __Far East__ about fireworks to more consistent use. My aesthetics weren't bad but they could be...hey I wasn't done yet! I urged Galahad after Henri as we charged straight at the Army of __Flanders__ in perfect square. Is there anything more glorious than the pound of 3000 horse with their white clad riders in full (if generally off key) song? A cannon ball fired by our guns whined past my shoulder and I swore to cut the ears off the fool gunner after the battle. While I'm all for seizing opportune moments informing the gunners that we were going to cross their line of fire BEFORE we did it might have been wise. The veterans of the Army of __Flanders__ were unimpressed by the thunder of our approach. It's a well known fact that cavalry can't take infantry if the square holds. But this wasn't a normal charge – we were a pistolade. Instead of lances we charged with primed wheel lock pistols in one hand in a sword in the other. At the proper point in the song the entire troop fired point blank into the enemy and charged through the holes in the ranks. It was brutal, and effective. The front rank fell like ripe wheat before a sharp scythe and we rode like white specters through a cloud of black powder into the rest at a full gallop. The pride of Sandro's army was churned under our hooves as they tried to close up and reform the square. _

_Henri and I burst out the other side far ahead of the rest. Damn it all how many times do I have to tell the fool to STAY WITH HIS TROOPS! I just hoped that we both lived long enough for me to tell him it again because we'd overshot right into the League forces. The Army of __Flanders__ would have considered Henri a valuable hostage to be taken alive. To the League Henri was essentially Satan incarnate. Not good. Not at ALL good. Between Henri's signature white plumes and the standard snapping over my head we were anything but inconspicuous. I was sorely tempted to wrap us in Shadow and make my excuses to Henri later. Let him hate me if it kept him alive. No. No magic in battle because, as Henri said, there are lines which shouldn't be crossed and that was one of mine. I took a firmer grip on the long sword in my left hand and wished for a lance instead of an already discharged pistol in my right. And then there was no more time for wishes. _

_Galahad roared a battle cry as he rocked into a perfect levade and lashed the front rank with his iron shod hooves. The only good part of this entire situation is that we were surrounded by infantry that didn't appear to have firearms. Maybe we could hold out long enough for the rest of our forces to catch up I thought as I decapitated some damn fool on my left and kicked someone in the face on my right. They were trying to separate us. Galahad obediently dropped back onto all fours and then executed a capriole to Henri's side just as his nag screamed in agony. It was moments like these that I was thankful for the Draig strength. No dynol could have caught Henri and reft him out of his dying horse's saddle and up behind me. And for the light bones, I weighed so little even in armor that Galahad should still be able to perform as if he carried but a single rider. The League forces hadn't been idle but my armor kept me unscathed as I got Henri settled behind me. Damn but we needed to get out of here! The only problem was there were several hundred angry Catholics between us and the rest of our forces if I gave them our backs we'd never make it. If we stayed here we were dead. I made a mental note to haunt Henri if he got me killed today provided of course we didn't both die. Could a horse courbette backwards? Only one way to find out. I gave him the cues for backing up and the courbette simultaneously. He flicked one perfect black ear at me questioningly as I fended a pike man off and he put his teeth to good use. I gave them again and then silently thanked Matthew Blake for creating the most glorious war horse to ever grace a battlefield. Men screamed in pain as Galahad landed on someone and we nearly went down but the maneuver cleared off some of the men crowed around us. I made a further mental note not to do it again. Horses aren't built properly for it and it doesn't work well. Henri slipped and as I caught him I heard the distinct crack of one of the small cannon. What kind of idiot fires into his own infantry? I started to duck the ball but it would rip right through Henri's armor and Henri. My armor had been forged by Mannwan – it might save me, maybe. I watched it come. It was a two pound ball at the far end of its range. If the armor didn't hold I was going to be a red smear on Henri's white tunic. I'd never wanted to duck so much in my life, I braced myself instead. The armor held, more or less, my ribs didn't. At least it hadn't been a head shot or either Henri or I would both be very dead._

_"Gabriel!" I listed limply back against Henri before forcing myself upright._

_"I'm fine" I had the Wind say while I tried with limited success not to gag on the blood from my punctured lung. This seemed far too damn familiar. I kicked some overzealous idiot in the face and cursed myself for ever leaving the Peregrine thirty-seven years ago. I could heal this in minutes but I didn't heal myself on the battlefield. It wasn't fair since the dynol couldn't. I could hear singing. I could even pick out Agrippa d'Aubigne duc de Bouillon's voice. Wind whispered their position and I set about carving us a path in that direction with a single minded (and single handed since my right was utterly limp and numb) ferocity. The Leaguers realizing that their prey might actually slip away redoubled their efforts. For every one I cut down two more sprang up in his place. There was a myth about that wasn't there? Something about dragon's teeth but it all seemed rather vague. _

_Henri shook me as I sagged a bit in the saddle. I started to lift the sword before I realized why I'd finally let it drop. The hymn of thanksgiving nearly drowned out the moans of the wounded and dying. I straightened in the saddle and drew my first easy breath in far too long. _

_Agrippa was giving Henri the tongue lashing I'd been planning on. Maybe Henri would listen to him but I doubted it. I glanced up at the sun – less than an hour but it had felt like an eternity. Henri was calling for a surgeon. I glanced back at him in concern only to find him fretting over me. _

_"You're going to be alright" he said sounding almost childlike._

_"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked giving him an incredulous look._

_"'Reil that cannon ball"_

_"Dented the hell out of my armor" I snapped suddenly worried. Anuion was no where in sight. Of all of the Alltude Anuion was by far and away my favorite, perhaps because he was the only one who didn't resent me. I slipped down from Galahad's back and passed Henri the reins "Tell Jaques I'll be by to check on him later." I sent Wind off to bring me word if he was living or dead. That whisper of Jane I still carried sent a prayer to a God I didn't believe in that it wasn't the latter. I silently surveyed the field and then myself. If the idiot who decided that the Protestant forces should wear white into battle wasn't already long dead I would kill him myself. On second thought once I had the leisure I was going to kill him again anyway since I could probably do that. Where was he buried? Meanwhile there were an awful lot of poor bastards in need of my help before they ended up buried too. Anuion where are you?_

_His attendants scattered before me like chaff as I let the power of the Draig shroud me like a miasma. Even my eyes had difficulty piercing his Shadow of Maximilien de Bethune, duc de Sully to see the Ellyllon beneath. I breathed a sigh of relief. The wounds were serious but even without my intervention it is likely he would have made a full recovery. His blue, nearly dynol round, eyes slid open at my touch and in spite of the wounds won in my service he tried to rise. So like his cousin Mannwan, not that Mannwan would ever admit it. Hells, Mannwan hadn't even mentioned that they were kin on his note about the Alltude and neither had Anuion when I had decided to track him down when Jane was imprisoned in the Tower. It was Bledri in one of his drunken rambles that let the proverbial cat out of the bag. I soothed him to sleep and went to work on his wounds. When I was finished I smoothed his sandy brown hair back in a gesture that would have mortified him if he had been awake. Once upon a time I had hoped we could be friends but Anuion would never be able to see past the differences in our ranks. I was the Prince of Avalon and he was the child who's birth had tarnished the honor of House Glanio. And Jane's God knows that if Mannwan and Anuion were any indication House Glanio worried at its honor like Mannwan's freakish hounds over a bone. Mannwan's aunt had borne a child to a peasant lad. For the crime of refusing to destroy the freithlondeb she had been meudwyn and the child had been banished as a Changeling. Though he was over a hundred and twenty years my elder we were still much the same, both exiles in a strange land for no better cause than the Blood that ran in our veins. And it was a great pity that Anuion barely considered himself worthy to lick my boots clean. _

_ I fought not to sway as I pulled another young soldier back from the brink of death. The sun had long since fled into the west. I wondered how close to dawn it was. All I had to do was look up and check the stars but that was too much effort and I didn't really want to know. When had I last slept? Two days ago? Three? Maybe four. Too damn many. Between Bess' delusions that I was an instant messenger service and the war to win Henri's throne sleep was becoming a thing of the past. Not that I ever had slept particularly well anyway. _

_"Gabriel, a moment."_

_I started a little. Sloppy, sloppy, **sloppy** that. If Agrippa had intended to kill me I would more than likely be dead. I was so tired that the whole world seemed dim and grey. Was this all the dynol saw at night? _

_He gave me a critical look "Never mind. It can wait until you've rested."_

_I tossed my head and glared "You sought me out for a reason Agrippa." Two hours until dawn, I want to sleep for a month but I doubt circumstances will even grant me the two. His look told me all I needed to know. I grabbed a bottle of wine on my way to Henri's tent. Henri always tied himself up in knots after a battle. Sometimes he muscled through it on his own, sometimes he needed a push. From Agrippa's scowl this was a particularly bad night. The sentries let me pass with barely a glance. THAT was unacceptable even if I was well known but I would singe the hair off of them later. _

_He was holding the bloody remnants of a League uniform. Sometimes given the rift between our mindsets it was amazing that Henri and I managed to be anything but enemies. When I saw Leaguer I saw an enemy. I saw a man who had committed himself to the complete annihilation, down to the babes in arms, of a group of people for the sake of ideology. The Protestants made up less than ten percent of __France__'s population. They could hardly force the Catholics to embrace their faith. They wanted only to live in peace and to worship God in their own way but to grant them that was too great a sacrifice for the Leaguers. I had no sympathy for the Leaguers who had died on the field. At best, if I tried, I could drum up a bit for those left behind, for the widows and orphans but even that was little more than a whisper. Henri saw every man fallen on the field as a brother, a deceived brother, but a brother never the less, and he mourned their loss. Milady Latimer would have done the same. I don't know if I should pity them or feel ashamed of myself. Sometimes they seemed like the stars, a brilliant gleam so far above me that all my striving could never make me a tithe of what they were. Sometimes I wondered if I was merely a moth scorching myself against a candle, foolishly fascinated with a flickering, feeble, earthly light. What was it that compelled me to seek out people of such… truly noble integrity? And hover around them. Was I simply a masochist at heart? My own high malleable moral code could only be cast in even deeper shadow by the association. Except that they wouldn't have survived without me, without someone doing the dirty work for them even if it was imperative that they never knew it. If Henri had any clue how blood soaked I really was… I sighed, standing out here woolgathering was doing neither of us any good. Henri heard me and attempted a smile. I just passed him the bottle. He took a healthy drink and passed it back. Normally I would pretend to enjoy it but I was too damn tired for pretenses. The stuff tasted like what it was - grapes gone bad and in all honesty I didn't much care for grapes BEFORE some smelly peasant stomped on them and let them rot. Now, tropical fruit was a completely different story. I loved oranges, limes, lemons, mangoes, and especially pineapples. You can't get good pineapple in __France_

_I know where you can Sea whispered.You could be in the __Caribbean__ in less than a week. White sand, crystal clear water, dolphins, reefs…_

_Endless warm, sunny days instead of the grays of __Europe__ – I mentally finished. And sleep, don't forget sleep. Then reality hit me like the slap of a tuna's tail – Henri wouldn't survive the week if I left now. _

_Friends and commitments? Sea asked. She still didn't really understand but She understood that She didn't want to lose me and I didn't want to lose them. She accepted my time ashore with the grudging grace of a wife watching her husband flirt with another but She did accept it. This time She sighed. _

_"It's got to stop 'Reil" Henri moaned "It's got to." He rose and paced like a caged bear. He whipped around and shook the uniform under my nose. "__France__ has been wounded and bleeding since I was six. My people, Reil, oh, sweet Jesus, my people." He curled the bloody rags to his breast as if he was holding the wounded man himself. If he didn't mean it with every bone in his body it would be laughably melodramatic. If he didn't mean it he wouldn't be Henri Bourbon, the mad Gascon, as yet uncrowned, King of __France__. I was too damn tired to have this argument again. I marshaled my flagging thoughts, at least it was a debate I could have in my sleep._

_"Henri you can't afford to let the League go unchallenged."_

_To which he would reply "But if I converted…"_

_"You would only appear weak and the League would force you act against the Protestants"_

_"Never" he snapped back._

_"Then you must defeat them first or they will always be waiting to rule or destroy you."_

_He sat heavily "I hate when you're right."_

_I was too weary to argue which was a mistake because Henri actually looked at me. "Your pardon, 'Reil, you"_

_"I'm fine" I snapped sounding entirely too petulant. _

_"Of course" he got up and rummaged through his chest, poured something, and pressed it into my hands while reclaiming the bottle. I eyed the pale green liquid warily. I don't, as a general rule, drink. Not out of guilt as Bledri believed (any one that STUPID...damn it I WARNED them, more than once. Young, stupid, **dead**, fools. I told them, I showed them, and they still…ah hell I DO NOT feel guilty about it – it was their own moronic faults. Every one of them had been over a hundred years my senior. You would THINK they could take care of themselves for one damn night! And not need a twenty year old who they had clearly thought belonged in a nursery to baby-sit them. Except that evidently they hadn't been up to the challenge. And…I am **not** thinking about this now.) I don't drink because I quite simply don't like being out of control. For one I'm far too powerful and two it's sloppy and sloppy gets you killed. I was certainly in no condition to be drinking absinthe** tonight. **But I was thirsty and given a choice between rotten grapes and absinthe… I took a delicate sip and then a more generous one. Henri flung an arm around me. Generally speaking I try to minimize actual physical contact since what you see isn't what you feel. All the glares in the world had just slid off Henri like water off a duck (possibly for the same reason. I didn't even want to imagine how long it takes to build up that much oil in one's hair). _

_"What am I to do, Reil? I can't be King of __France__ as a Protestant. I can't be true to my faith and be Catholic. I can't abdicate because Philip would claim __France__ in the name of his daughter. And I can't keep killing my subjects. There needs to be peace in France, Reil, there has to be, for the sake of my people. Peace within and peace with __Spain__."_

_Peace with __Spain__! – I finished off the glass in a single gulp. Henri smoothly refilled it. More correctly – peace with Pustule. Peace with the man who made the cost of his hand the lives of two (mostly) innocent children. Admittedly I would probably have killed __Guildford__ myself, but for personal reasons. I winced at the thought of the bumbling, inept lout but as much as I despised __Guildford__ personally he had been NO threat to Philip of __Spain__ and Pustule's insistence on his death had been petty in the extreme. Peace with the man responsible for Jane's death (which if I was being honest was legitimate in a purely political sense but still boiled down to the cold blooded execution of a sixteen year old girl). To blazes with honesty – the quill pushing prig had demanded Jane's death. Jane's Hell would freeze over before I made peace with the ambulatory sac of puss that killed her. Dragon's breath Henri wanted peace with __Spain__ - I needed the whole damn bottle to even think about it. _

_"How am I to save my people and my soul?"_

_'How do I get into these discussions?' was my first thought but my reply was "Love the Lord, thy God, with all thy heart and love thy neighbor as thyself." I mentally translated it into Greek, Latin, English, Italian, German, Spanish, and El'lan. If I had the energy I'd curse Aschem for making me translate the entire New Testament so many times that every time I thought of a verse I compulsively converted it into multiple languages. Damn annoying that. Peace with Pustule! I took another generous sip of absinthe. "Does going to mass diminish your love of God? Does it hinder your love of your fellow man?"_

_"I promised her" he whispered back "I've converted before when there was a blade at my throat but always with the intention of returning to the Protestant fold."_

_Promised her? Oh, his mother, Jeanne, a good woman and a brave one "Then you have to decide, Henri, is peace worth a mass? And does a promise to one dead woman out weigh the prosperity of your subjects? To whom do you owe more – the living or the dead?" Peace with __Spain__ – could I do it? Probably not. I took another generous gulp of absinthe._

_"What would I do without you?" Henri asked. _

_'Died before you reached 15' was my muzzy mental reply. Too much absinthe, not enough sleep. I tried to muster myself._

_"Shh, my turn to keep watch, mon cher ami."_

_The only place I'd trust Henri to keep watch was in a monastery and even then he'd still probably find a skirt to chas….._

_ I burrowed deeper into the blankets and took a deep breath. Ewww. If this was my bed a servant was going to find himself flayed alive. I don't CARE if this is a war camp I expected clean linen scented with rose water not something that smelled just like Henri. I nearly sat up. How had I ended up in Henri's bed? I slid one eye open. Unless someone had completely rearranged Henri's tent while I was asleep (highly unlikely) then not only had I slept through dawn but the entire day and nearly to sunset. I watched Henri's back as he worked on another of his many letters and reflected on last night's discussion. Peace with __Spain__. The Draig in me wanted blood just for the thought but… I'd always considered the land mine but the people to be Henri's or Guile's or Gran's or Bess's never mine but if I was responsible for the land then I was responsible for the people upon it as well. Like Henri it came down to a simple question – to whom did I owe more? A single girl who had been dead for thirty-seven years or the thousands still living in __England__France__Scotland__Ireland__, and the __Netherlands__? Phrased that way there wasn't really much choice even if it was for both of us a betrayal. I had no doubts that Henri would make the correct choice. That at the opportune moment, no matter what it cost him personally, he would betray his mother's memory and his own conscious for the people of __France__. I was less sure of my own behavior but so be it - for Henri and his people I would try to make peace with __Spain__. And for Sandro – the man I couldn't kill. _

Mallory coughed a bit on the window ledge "Of course it is far easier to say than to do. First, I had no intention of merely capitulating to Spain since that would be a betrayal of the people who had so long fought at my side. Second, Pustule decided that under no circumstances would he allow a reformed Protestant to rule France and under no circumstances was I going to betray Henri. So it would be eight more war torn years before Sandro and I ended up negotiating the Treaty of Vervins in 1598."

"Is that when you healed him again?" Elizabeth asked.

Mallory blinked at her clearly more in the past than the present "No, no that was in 1592. We were besieging Rouen. Sandro was sent to relieve the city and received a minor wound in a skirmish. If he had had it treated promptly it might not have been a problem but he was already living more by will than by physical strength it probably would have killed him eventually regardless. He went to Arras to rest but Pustule ordered him back into the fray headless of his rapidly failing health. He'd been all but cradled in the saddle and he couldn't even stay on a bloody horse but Pustule ordered him into battle." You could hear the snarl, the anger, the hate, even with Wind speaking for him. "Wind, of course brought me regular word of his condition and finally I decided to review the situation personally…

_He was dying, if not tonight then very soon. Thin as a wraith with his enaid in terfynol llosg, the final burn, the flair before the long dark. He glowed so brightly that I was tempted to shield my eyes. Still beautiful that play of blue-green-gold even as the body failed around it. I closed my eyes and let the muted light play across my senses. I should **NOT** have come. I should have forbad Wind to bring me word. I was warned, long ago that to do this was to court my own demise. To hell with prophecy – I made my own road. Always have, always will. I am the master and commander of my own fate. I opened my eyes wincing a little against a light as brilliant as the setting sun and dispelled the outer Shadow that had hidden me from the eyes of his men without. Instead of Draco's signature black I let my Shadow echo my real garb even if I did resemble a holly tree after a snow squall at the moment since I had come straight from Bess's midwinter festival (but I was a damn FINE looking holly tree). The green velvet that made up the bulk of the outfit was perfectly matched to my eyes. It was offset by pearly white silk and real pearls with the occasional ruby for contrast. The finest ruby I had ever crafted sat like baneful red eye in the middle of my forehead. It was perhaps a bit melodramatic but I was a prince of Avalon and unlike the dynol who only rarely wore their crowns we of House Penthalion lived in ours. Or at least so I had been told. Since I was not yet officially the crown prince, even if I was the only heir, my 'crown' was but a delicate band of platinum set with the massive ruby. _

_"No black tonight?" his men would be surprised (and reassured) at how much strength there was in his voice but I know it for what it is. _

_I canted my head and appraised him "No. Black is for…business."_

_"I didn't know Draco made social calls."_

_I shrugged "Draco doesn't."_

_"So to whom am I speaking?"_

_I shook my head "The Prince of Avalon."_

_"Did you come here to gloat?"_

_"I confess if your uncle was in similar straights I would be…sorely tempted but you, no, never. I take no pleasure in watching friends die."_

_Stunned silence, then a growl, "We were never friends. You **murdered** my friends. You slaughtered my uncle Don Juan."_

_"And you have killed no one?" I scoffed back "I have lost far more friends than you have thanks to your uncle's inability to see reason. But that isn't why I came here." I took a step closer "I came to give you a choice." I set copies of the dispatches I had briefly and discretely 'borrowed' a few days before in front of him. His hands began to shake as he read them._

_He pushed them away with surprising force but then I had already subtly tied my enaid to his. I wanted his mind clear not muddied by his rapidly ebbing life. _

_"Do actually expect me to believe this, this tall tale?"_

_"I think you know that your uncle is perfectly capable of making you the scapegoat for every problem he has in __France__England__, and the __Netherlands__. And now you have proof that he has." I sat opposite him – he'd never be swift enough to harm me. "He's killed you Sandro and after a lifetime of service to add insult to injury he's betrayed you."_

_"And now you expect me to return the favor? Why? What would you gain if I'm dying?"_

_'What do I gain? If the prophetess is right – death. What the hell am I doing here?' but that wasn't what I said "But Sandro you don't have to die."_

_"My name is Alessandro Farnese, Duke of __Parma__ et __Piacenza__, Sandro is for dear friends which you aren't."_

_I bowed elegantly "My mistake. Your God keep you, Duke of __Parma__." I turned to go._

_"A moment" he tried to rise and failed as I began pulling back the strength I had offered "Why didn't you kill me?"_

_I met his utterly confused eyes "What would be the point when you're not going to see __midday__?"_

_"I don't mean tonight and you know it. I mean before, at Ivry. You had to know I would tell him you were an elf" And if I had know it would be such fun I would have let that fact slip to Pustule years ago. I'd spent more than one day in the last two years filling Pustule's head with ridiculous notions and had been paid a King's ransom to create various things to protect him from me as Pustule's very secret chief sorcerer. The irony was…delicious. And both Bess and Henri could use the extra funds. "or anytime in the thirty-nine years you've been at war with my King."_

_I sighed and took a step back into the room "The King of __Aragon__ and __Castile__ and I were never friends but we were not always enemies and once upon a time you were very glad to hear Sandro from my lips." I swallowed "I never said good-bye properly and I do regret that."_

_"I never met you before that night at Ivry."_

_This was an extremely stupid idea. I may have written faithfully to Sandro in those years after I sailed away on Peregrine and before Jane's execution but he hadn't seen Rhys since he was four. He couldn't possibly remember…but as I overlaid Draco with Lord Tallyrand he went even more pale and his enaid which had gone very yellow at the sight of Draco shifted to pure blue. Telling that, no matter what he said I now knew he was genuinely happy to see me, even if he'd never admit to it._

_"Rhys? __Madre de Dios__" I'd personally expected some stronger swearing than that "I should have known. Letters that appeared out of no where. Draco's appearance within days of the last letter's delivery."_

_Wind might be the swiftest messenger but Sea was far more reliable. Never in all my days had She ever failed to deliver any missive I committed to Her care or any that another had given Her for me._

_"Was it real?"_

_Not the question I'd expected. Though I wasn't sure what I did expect from Sandro. I had simply stopped writing, without any explanation, to a nine year old who had all but worshipped the ground I walked on. In the grand scheme of the monster I had allowed myself to become in the wake of Jane's death it was nothing but I knew Sandro had taken it hard. At the time, I hadn't cared "Was what real?" _

_"The monster, with the wings and teeth. Really **big** teeth" he shivered a little. I could certainly sympathize. I had had a better look than I ever wanted of the inside of a mardeth's mouth that night myself._

_I blinked at him "You remember the mardeth?"_

_"It's not the sort of thing one forgets but I've always thought it was a nightmare." He studied me "You put yourself between me and it. That was your hiding place you pushed me in while you went out and fought with that thing."_

_"It wasn't one of my wiser decisions" a bit like tonight "but I survived" more or less "unfortunately so did Brenin but I'll get him next time."_

_He glanced down at the pages still in front of him "I was so furious at you when the letters just stopped. I burned them. And then a few years later I was in the Archives and I stumbled across records of your execution. I wondered for years if I was insane." This time he made it out of the chair. I wasn't exactly sure what he planned but figured that in his condition it couldn't be anything fatal. He still had a surprisingly good right cross for a dying man. He'd been aiming for my chin but do to the difference in my real height and my apparent one he'd actually caught me on the bridge of my nose hard enough to make me see stars. _

_"Feel better?" I asked._

_"You son of a bitch." Oh, now that was uncalled for – it wasn't as if he knew my mother. Of course neither did I. All I knew is that we both had the same vivid green Draig's eyes which was essentially all I could remember. "How dare you show up again thirty-eight years later."_

_"I came to save your life, again."_

_That brought him up short "At what price?"_

_"No price" he gave me a 'do you think I'm stupid?' look "I won't deny I'd prefer that you abandon the cause of Philip of __Spain__ and joined me. But I won't make that a condition of your survival. If you want to stay in blind allegiance to the man who would do that" I gestured to the documents "to you than that is your own business. No strings, Sandro, for old times sake."_

_He stared at the letter for a long time and then whispered "I want to live."_

The flashback abruptly changed to a different place and time.

_I glared at __Essex__ but the silly little puppy was so secure in his place as Bess's current favorite that it had no effect on him. I should have killed Robert Devereux, the Earl of __Essex__ back when he was my step-son but who knew the annoying little brat was going to become so dangerously charismatic? I tapped my fingers against Risnca's sheath as I considered the consequences if I slit his throat here and now. I doubted the real Charles Howard would appreciate me committing murder in his name but I wasn't terribly concerned one way or the other. Besides he as getting an Earldom out of letting me borrow his name and face for this little excursion and I could always kill him wearing a different face. What was one more body? The problem was Bess (wasn't it always?). We were both 63 but to say the years had been kinder to me than to her was far beyond an understatement. She was as healthy as I could make her but I was worried about her heart. She'd become deeply attached him because he was 'so witty and pretty'. The truth was he reminded her of Eyes (who had also been his step-father though Eyes had liked him better than I ever would), and he made her feel young and desirable. Bess dismissed my misgivings as jealousy, claiming that first he was more comely than I am (clearly Bess was in need of spectacles), second that I was upset that some of the affection she usually lavished on me had gone to him (personally I could use a little less of Bess's particular form of affection. And judging from her reaction when she discovered I'd given the gold I pilfered from Philip's most recent sorry excuse for an Armada to Henri instead of her I wasn't the one with a jealousy (or a greed) issue. The old bat had gone so far as to box my ears as if I was one of her courtiers. I had at least disabused her of the notion that I was one of her subjects. Third that I was envious of the way the men loved him. That one might actually be true. Men followed me out of fear, or respect, or greed, but never out of love or even loyal camaraderie. They followed __Essex__ out of loyalty but I was willing to bet they'd do more and go further out of fear of me than love of him. _

_"Are you going to answer the question, Admiral, or are you just going to glare at me?" he inquired in that disgustingly fake sweet way of his._

_I should save Bess the grief he was going to cause her. Sixty years in the courts had taught me how to recognize a traitor in training. He was playing her. Damn it, she was sixty-three years old, she knew better than this! But she'd been the same way with Eyes. The difference was Eyes had loved her back and certain lines had never been crossed. This little snake was going to slither right through them. I should kill him now so she could just mourn him instead of having to order his death herself a few years from now or losing her own life to him when he made his play for the throne. _

_"My men have been very, very obedient and have followed your orders completely." Threatening to publicly geld the first man who so much a flirted with a 'lady' against her will had that effect "But they're getting…antsy. No plunder except what we took off the ships we burned, no desecrating the churches, no duels, no murders, no ladies – I'm running out of ways to keep them distracted now if you would just."_

_"No" I leaned far into his space "We were sent here to cripple __Spain__'s ability to launch another Armada. We are to burn the ships, make the point that we can hold the town, plunder the town, burn the town, and depart. We were ordered to do it with 'grace, style, and restrained decorum' and I intend to do just that." Louis de Naussa, commander of the Dutch troops looked like he was on the verge of calling for assistance. If he had known that I was Draco he would have been in a panic long before since he had a fair idea of my temper from our years as allies. __Essex__ was definitely very close to seeing what happened when I forgot about 'restrained decorum' (I was never without grace and style.) "If you find yourself incapable of controlling your men I'll do it for you." __Cadiz__ would not be a repeat of Rathlin. That was half the reason I was here because left to his own devices he would have made this a blood bath and Jane's God knows I've seen and participated in far too many. No more Rathlins on my watch, not if I could prevent it. _

_My prize prisoner, one __Alessandro Farnese, Duke of __Parma__ and __Piacenza__, appeared in the doorway with just a touch of a smirk curling his lips "Is something amiss, Lord Effingham?"_

_Essex__ brushed past me on the way out followed by Louis who shot me an apologetic look. __Raleigh__ hobbled out more slowly still favoring his wounds. I, personally, neither liked nor disliked Walter Raleigh but I was playing a true Changeling at the moment and the real Charles Howard was very fond of __Raleigh__. Given that I had no strong feelings toward him myself I would have to be very careful lest I find Lord Howard's inclinations extending beyond this exercise. I had no difficulties drawing the line between myself and the Shadow when my own passions ran hot but in areas were I was neutral lines blurred and I had no intention of allowing any corruption with an entire Spanish city under my thumb. _

_I waited until the last of my subordinates retainers had cleared the room before replying. "Young Essex feels his men require distraction" Sandro, a military man himself, stiffened knowing exactly what __Essex__ was requesting permission to do._

_"With your permission I'd like to have the women and children evacuated."_

_"Soon" I replied as I passed him a glass of what I'd been informed was a very fine merlot. (As far as I was concerned it was all rotted grapes. As a nobleman I could certainly tell a claret from a merlot but I had no real appreciation for what separated a fine vintage from near vinegar.) Sandro seemed properly impress and while he enjoyed his wine I reflected on the irony that Pustule had stripped the only commander to ever hand me an unremittingly humiliating defeat of military command. When he had been assured that Sandro was dying he had heaped all his troubles on Sandro's head but when Sandro had made a second miraculous recovery he'd withdrawn the worst of the accusations. He had also essentially kept Sandro under house arrest in the court for the last few years. Somehow I doubted being in __Cadiz__ to review the Armada preparations for his uncle at the exact moment of my attack was going to improve his position much but I couldn't scrap the raid just for Sandro's sake. "I will evacuate the civilians in my own good time and the men will continue to show restraint."_

_"Then I assume you summoned me here for some other purpose" he glanced at me over the rim of the glass and I let the Shadow of Lord Howard of Effingham be replaced it with that of Draco. To Sandro's credit he blinked but once in surprise (and went tellingly blue) and asked "I take it the reports of Drake's demise are incorrect."_

_"Not at all, Drake is dead, has been for decades."_

_"So you've taken the Lord Admiral's place?"_

_"Only for this mission. I take faces and names as it suits my purposes" I formed a Shadow of Sandro. He didn't even bat an eye (though there were a few flickers of yellow in his enaid)._

_"I should warn you, though you undoubtedly know better than I, that I am not particularly well received at court."_

_I switched back to Draco "I have no intention of going to __Madrid__ nor of taking your place. Your king will want a full first hand accounting and he still trusts you enough for that. Tell him that the plan to grant the __Netherlands__ their autonomy under Albert et Isabel is a start but I want the Spanish troops withdrawn from __France__ or __Cadiz__ is only the beginning."_

_"English and Flemish troops" Sandro mused "Did you tell Queen Eliza__beth__ that this Armada was meant for __England__?"_

_Actually I hadn't – but I also hadn't bothered to tell her that it was really bound for __Brest__. Pustule already had troops in Cambria, Calais, and Amiens and with most of Henri's forces besieging Amiens there was no one available to repulse an attack on Brittany particularly since that province was still (acutely embarrassingly) in rebellion. Spanish forces augmenting those of the League could have swept through __France__ taking Henri from behind. If he marched to face them the garrison at __Amiens__ could potentially take __Paris__. Bess's navy was Henri's best hope but she would never have allowed 'so great an expense' for his sake. And she was too busy preening over the fact I was once more in her service that she hadn't (and mustn't) realize I was in fact using her men and ships for him. Sandro, with his frequently annoying brilliance, had immediately surmised the truth. If she knew that I'd secretly loaded over 6,000,000 ducats worth of treasure from the supposedly burned merchant fleet (Well, in all honesty, the merchant fleet had burned just as the duke of Media Sedona had commanded but with no one but Granuaile's crews and I the wiser fully half of the most valuable cargo had been loaded onto the ships I designed for her.) she would want my head on a plate. If she knew I was sending it to Henri (minus a substantial fee for Gran) she'd want me drawn and quartered. She would undoubtedly have a number of unpleasant things to say to me about the loss of the booty from the merchant fleet. She'd also given me the perfect alibi – __Robert Devereux. She'd begged me to keep him safe at all costs even if it meant the failure of the mission. She had made us co-commanders. I was in charge of the fleet, Devereux the land forces. Like the inexperienced puppy he was he'd charged headfirst right into Sandro's trap. Saving Devereux from his own stupidity had cost us half of the goods and all of the ships of the merchant fleet._

_"It isn't?" I inquired while pretending to enjoy the wine._

_I was weighed over the rim of the glass "I am curious – why do you always appear at the head of others troops but never your own?"_

_I canted my head questioningly "Why would I spill the blood of my own people over the petty quarrels of your kind?" It sounded fair but in truth I would give much to have an army of my own so that I would not have to either kill, beg, or deceive to gain one when necessary._

_Sandro seemed to except my words as truth. "Was it your execution that turned you against us?"_

_I had intended to laugh but the bitter bark that emerged was mirthless "That little tickle? No, it wasn't either of my executions that earned your uncle my enmity." I took a sip of my wine and a very deep breath "Tell your uncle for the sake of the peoples of __England__France__, and the __Netherlands__ I am" I couldn't force the words out. Sandro just watched me. The glass shattered in my hand "willing to discuss the possibility of peace."_

_"You're bleeding" Sandro finally said quietly._

_"It's nothing" I set the remains of the glass on a window sill and picked the slivers out of my palm before healing the cuts. It was the right thing to do. It was._

_Draigs do not make peace the white dragon spat at me We never yield until the enemy is utterly destroyed!_

_Just in case you hadn't noticed – that's why you're EXTINCT_

_It was easy to snap at Nimrais but the Draig within me howled in protest as Sandro said "My king has sworn to see you imprisoned and executed."_

_This time I did outright laugh "There is no prison that can hold me nor can the old fool you serve do me harm" I scoffed._

_"I will take your words to my king."_

_If there was an afterlife I hoped Jane could forgive me but I owed more to the living than the dead._

Arrogant young fool was Mallory's weary thought from his perch in the window.

"The money never did make it to Henri" the Wind said for Mallory "Gran stole it and gave it Hugh O'Neill." The mere thought of Gran brought on a mixture of chagrin/anger/amusement/nostalgia and something that for lack of a better term (though I would never have thought of it and Mallory in the same sentence before now) I'd call puppy love. She hadn't ever been the love of his life the way Elizabeth was mine but she'd definitely been his first crush.

"The Earl of Tyrone? Who raised Ireland in rebellion and swore allegiance to Philip of Spain?" Again I saw the golden gleam of Elizabeth through Mallory's eyes and the red of my daughter. Father, I was going to be a father. It was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure.

"Milady knows her history." He listened to the Wind as it whispered from the shore then took stock of his own flagging strength. He wasn't going to last much longer. And then I realized he hadn't actually lasted this long – he was pulling strength from Sea and had been for some time but he couldn't do that forever. Even the pain had lost its hard, biting edge and become a deep thrum in a distant place.

"What happened next?" I prompted and saw myself for the first time through Mallory's eyes. Sapphire – deep, rich, bottomless blue but with just the slightest flash of red. Only diamond is harder than sapphire but though diamond can grind sapphire to powder, sapphire is the more resilient stone. Diamond's strength is a brittle one. Hit it just right and for all its hardness it will shatter like glass.

"Peace talks began in secret in 1597 and then openly 1598 at Vervins Sandro and Albert were Pustule's representatives while Anuion and I were Henri's"

_I could feel the smile curling my lips as I read over the treaty. The Draig within could protest all it wanted to about grinding one's enemies into dust. This was a damn good treaty and while it remained to be seen if anyone would actually be faithful to it it could be the foundation of a lasting peace. I'd hadn't gotten everything I wanted but I'd gotten more than I expected with less of a fight._

_"My prince, may I speak freely?" I raised my eyes from the treaty to Anuion's earnest blue ones._

_"Certainly" I replied restraining a sigh. I was never going to break through that wall of shame he'd built around himself. You could see it in his enaid like a loadstone._

_"I don't like it."_

_I glanced back at the treaty "What's not to like?"_

_He shook his head "Not the treaty itself, it's more than fine. It's the insistence that you represent Henri at the ratification in __Madrid__ that concerns me. Why you? Why are you to disembark in __Cordoba__ instead of __Toledo__?"_

_I couldn't deny that that last point confused me as well. Peregrine could easily sail up the __Tagus__River__ to __Toledo__ and be less than two days ride from __Madrid__Cordoba__ on the __Guadalquivir__River__ was at least a fortnight's hard ride from __Madrid__ and that was if we changed horses regularly. While I enjoyed a long ride more than most the choice of routes was a bit disconcerting but at least the weather should be good in the mountain passes this time of year. I listened to the Wind but could find no hint that they had connected Gabriel with Draco. And I had been very careful to give them no reason to._

_"That treaty will not be well received in __Spain__. The longer you're in the country the more dangerous it will become."_

_I had to bite back a scathing reply. It had taken years to get Anuion to speak in my presence without cowering, there was nothing to be gained by cutting him off at the proverbial knees even if I was deeply insulted at the insinuation that I couldn't take care of myself. Instead I rolled up Henri's copy of the treaty and handed it to him with the promise "I'll be careful."_

_I wanted to be there when Henri saw the coup we had accomplished but the agreement was Albert and Anuion to Henri and Sandro and I to Pustule besides watching Pustule have to sign this would also be a pleasure._

Again we changed locations.

_I gave the fine Andalusian I was riding an encouraging pat. After over a fortnight in the saddle I was more than ready to reach Pustule's monstrosity of a palace/monastery __San Lorenzo__del__Escorial__. Flying had spoiled me, I was no longer used to playing the dutiful dynol for long stretches. The closer we come to __Madrid__ the yellower and quieter Sandro had become. Of course I wouldn't be eager to present this treaty to my king either. I slipped the pearl grey stallion a dried apple as the grooms led him away and turned to find Sandro watching me._

_"Is something amiss?" I asked._

_He started to shake his head and then sighed "Let's just get this over with."_

_I gave the stones of the __Escorial__ a sour glance. There were many places were Earth and I had difficulty communicating but only here did Earth actively despise me. Too bad Pustule couldn't speak to stone or he would have known his enemy long ago. I wished (futilely) that the ratification could have taken place in __Madrid__ but Pustule at 71 was too infirm to make even so short a trip so here I was back in this hulking eyesore. As we started up the steps Isabel Hapsburg came running down them to meet Sandro and tripped on her long bejeweled skirts. I caught her before she broke her neck only to find Pustule glaring daggers at me. I set her graciously back on her feet and tried not to hold her father against her. It wasn't easy. There was a time when I had seriously considered killing both she and her sister Catalina who were the only children of Pustule's ill-fated marriage to Henri II's daughter Eliza__beth__ de Valois. Childbirth killed Catalina less than a year ago and with Pustule ceding his false claims to the French throne there was no longer any need for me to murder Isabel. At least right now. And the truth was if she hadn't been Pustule's child I might have even liked her. _

_She muttered an embarrassed thanks to which I replied with a flowery bit of gallantry before following Sandro under the great stone arches of the __Escorial__. It took an act of conscious will to force myself through them as the stones howled a protest no ears but mine could hear. _

_We followed Pustule's wheelchair for what seemed a small slice of eternity as the stones derided me with every step. Was it just me or did they seem even more vitriolic than usual? Wind was trying to get my attention but I couldn't make anything out over the wail of the stones. The room we ended up in was much like Pustule himself, dour, dank, windowless, and cheerless. Pustule unrolled the document and held it at arms length to read it before signing it. Abysmal penmanship – it was the hardest thing for me when forging his documents. Ascham had quite literally beaten good penmanship into me and I simply abhorred sloppy work. As I leaned forward to sign in Henri's stead the whole world was consumed in agony._

I lost the link completely and from the look on my father's face so had he. I watched the Shadow of Gabriel pitch slowly forward as two more black arrows slammed home but he finished signing the damn treaty. I tried to find the link again…

_AGONY. Think, damn it, don't feel. It's just a body never mind that it's your own. Poisoned arrows and not just any poison something magical, something from Avalon. Something I was spreading with every frantic beat of my heart so I reached out and stopped it. If the poison was from Avalon then the archer might be as well so I needed to hide my enaid. As much as I hated to squander any of the strength I was going to sorely need for my escape I sent a flash of power out as I spiraled my enaid into Risnca. As I came 'face to face' as it were for the first time with the shades of Nimrais and Agnar I realized that I was in a great deal of trouble from which I might not be able extricate myself. Nonsense – I am a Prince of Avalon. _

_The White Draig canted his head to look down at me "This is what comes of mercy" he said and struck. I dodged only narrowly escaping his jaws to find that I'd backed right into Agnar's foreleg. Distantly I could hear the real world outside the dagger._

_"Well done nephew, you have proven your loyalty and removed a demon from this world."_

_How the hell had he connected Gabriel with Draco? I decided that question could wait for a more opportune moment as I used Agnar to as a shield from Nimrais._

_"Not a demon" said a voice I knew but couldn't immediately place "But perhaps the greatest King our people would have ever had."_

_Of course that put me in danger from Agnar himself except that Nimrais (as I had hoped) was more determined to keep Agnar for getting me than he was in getting me himself._

_"Then why did you agree to slay him?"_

_There was a long pause while I played tag with a pair of draigs. This was almost as much fun as the mardeth._

_"His father must not become cyfae."_

_Nimrais nearly caught me as I tried to figure out what that meant but I ducked at the last minute and the two of them ended up entangled in each other. Sometimes I even impress myself. _

_"Maddewch I mi, mi tywysogion, Mi dem dymuno niwed."_

_For a gent who claimed he had never wished to harm me he'd done a damn fine job and I wasn't in a terribly forgiving mood. As his hand touched my staring eyelids I recognized his enaid and without even thinking about it I surged back into my silent flesh and ripped his enaid from him. Bleanu crumpled dead at my feet as I used his enaid to form a buffer between the rot that was already spreading from the arrows and the less compromised flesh. That done I cautiously restarted my heart which had fortunately been silent only a minute or two. I tried to incinerate the arrows but something had been done to them and they wouldn't burn. I glanced down at the peace treaty now stained with my own blood._

_"Hear me King Felipe of __Castile__ and __Aragon__ if you or yours break this treaty the House of Bourbon will sit on your throne. You have called me a demon but I name you a despoiler of the faithful. May your God judge us and let he who had the truer cause live." Where the hell had THAT come from? I must be delirious from the poison. _

_I shouldered my way between the stunned men and fled into the corridors. I had to get these blasted arrows and the diseased flesh around them out of me. I paused in a hall way and pulled Risnca free. The blade sliced cleanly through the arrows and then through flesh that had already turned into a black putrid mess. Talk about your instant gangrene even the ribs adjacent to where the arrows had struck had liquefied. The only thing keeping my left lung from collapsing was the rings of power derived from Bleanu's death. As I slid Risnca back into its sheath Nimrais mused He might actually be worthy_

_Worthy of what I wondered as I took to the air. Sea and Peregrine were my only hope and they were nearly 200 miles away..._

_Grey. The whole world was grey. There had been color once, I remembered it, I think, or was it but a dream? Or perhaps this was the dream? Had I always been in this strange faded place? I didn't think so but I couldn't seem to find my way back to the other place either. Did it matter?_

_I raised my hand to my stinging cheek as someone yelled. Not someone, Henri, Henri Bourbon "I am never going to forgive you, Riel, never. And if you don't start breathing I'm going to kill you again."_

_What was Henri doing here? He mustn't come here so I must go there. I followed his voice but it hurt everything hurt "Please breath."_

_He asked and so I tried and I coughed and that hurt worse but I didn't want Henri to be upset so I swallowed the foul tasting blood and it burned all the way down. I forced my eyes open. See, I was right, there were other colors than grey. _

_"Gabriel!"_

_I tried to give him a reassuring smile but my eyes slid shut and the grey place swallowed me again. But now I knew that I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to be there. I needed to be there and so I listened very hard for the voices that could show me the way out. Praying, someone was praying. Henri was praying for me but I couldn't quite make it back out of the grey place and the voice faded again. I screamed in my fury but there was no one to hear me in the nothing between. Someone else was seeking me, trying to pull me of this drab prison but we couldn't quite reach each other. _

_"No you can't" someone protested. Sandro, I could see his gold-green-blue even through the grey. Who was he arguing with and why was I angry with him? The memory kept slipping through my fingers. No matter – time enough to remember when I was back in the waking world. Priorities, priorities, "You mustn't."_

_"Why not?" Henri retorted. I'd know that smell anywhere and for the first time in my life I savored it because it meant that I'd clawed my way back again. Now if only I could hold on. I will hold you Sea promised and I realized that it was She and Peregrine who had been searching the mist for me. _

_"He's awake" Sandro breathed sounding elated. Why couldn't I remember why I was angry with him or how I'd gotten here? A treaty, I'd gone to __Spain__ to sign a treaty but I could tell from the slap of the wavelets on Peregrine that we were in the __Seine__ somewhere north of __Paris__. From __Cordoba__ to __Paris__ was no short trip even as Peregrine reckoned it. I must have been lost in the fog for at least a week. And how had I gotten to Peregrine? My wild flight from the Escorial had ended prematurely I seemed to have some vague recollection of being face down in the upper branches of an orange tree surrounded in a drift of blossoms. It was all rather surreal though and I wasn't sure it wasn't a dream too. How had I gotten from there to here?_

_Longer than a week, far longer, beloved Sea whispered I wish these dynol of yours would leave so I could hold you properly._

_Henri grabbed a mug and tilted it to my lips. Tepid broth had never tasted so good. I slurped and I didn't care but he pulled it away. "Gently, gently, mon ami. We don't want you making yourself sick." He hitched me up against him. I wanted to shrug him off and do it myself but I lacked the strength and somehow it bothered me less with Henri. I was ravenous but after only half a mug full I could feel my eyes sliding back shut no matter how hard I fought to keep them open. Through Wind's delighted babble I picked up two facts. It was September 13th, over three months since the signing of the treaty and Pustule after three months of agonizing illness had died this morning. I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep against Henri's chest. _

_"You've avoided the question long enough, Farnese" Henri growled at Sandro. My right ear must have been pressed against his heart because all I could hear with that ear was its reassuringly steady beat which was lulling me back to sleep. "He went to sign a peace treaty. How the hell did this happen?"_

_"Sh" Sandro replied "You've awakened him."_

_I wanted to grumble that I wasn't a baby. For Draig's sake, I was the oldest person in this cabin but some of the tension bled out of Henri as he fed me some more broth. I was far too proud of myself that I finished the entire mug this time and was only drowsy instead of completely exhausted. Whatever had been on those arrows had been ruinously venomous. Very little had actually made it into my bloodstream and I was still barely clinging to life three months later. I could feel pockets of it in the wounds just waiting for an opportune moment to finish me but still trapped by the remnants of Bleanu's enslaved enaid. Why the hell had he wanted to kill me in the first place?_

_"I'm still waiting for an answer, Farnese" as much as I wanted to know how they'd fingered me as Draco I didn't want Henri to know. I tried to protest but even keeping my eyes open was beyond the limits of my waning strength. _

_"The treaty was never about making peace with you. It was always a trap for him."_

_"For Gabriel? Why would the King of __Castile__ want to destroy one of my lieutenants?" _

_Desperation forced my eyes back open but I failed to catch Sandro's eye "Don't you know who he is?"_

_"He's Gabriel Count de Montgomery."_

_"He is the Prince of the __Elven__Kingdom__ of Avalon. He's a changeling."_

_"No" Henri scoffed but I could feel him pull away a bit, could feel him adding up all the little things, all the times I'd arrived just in the nick of time, my 'healing hands', all the things I knew. I'd had good excuses ready for all of them and most of them could be explained away with mundane dynol reasons but added up across over thirty years and the truth became undeniable._

_"So young" Sandro whispered as he brushed a far too greasy lock of hair off my face (sheesh couldn't anyone be bothered to bath me? Yuck! I was filthy). AND I AM NOT A CHILD, damn it at 65 I was the oldest person on the bloody boat! Ship Peregrine hissed at me with equal indignation. I didn't miss a beat boat Ship Are not Are to Are not You were saying something about not being a child? If I'd had the strength I'd have blown a raspberry at him. _

_It's good to have you back My ship had thought I wasn't coming back. That was sobering. _

_I could feel Henri studying me "He's over sixty."_

_"He isn't even old enough to shave" Sandro shot back "trust your fingers not your eyes." Henri's battle hardened hands ran roughly across my face (I bet he didn't treat the ladies like that.) and froze when he felt my pointed ear. I tried to flick it but I was too weak even for that. He pulled away and swept out of the cabin._

_"I'd undo it if I could" Sandro whispered before following. I'd have spat on him if I could. _

_Peregrine fed me the rest of their conversation in the companionway "How did you know?"_

_"An elf and a, a thing came to my uncle and I and offered to help kill him. They had their own reasons. Apparently there is a faction in Avalon that does not wish to see him on the throne. The thing provided me with an ointment that allowed me to see through what they call Shadows. Then it was just a matter of finding him and luring him to the __Escorial__. And I knew he'd be at the peace talks since he was the one that forced the King into them. Even if he didn't like it much himself."_

_"He forced the peace?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Why the __Escorial__?" _

_"The thing insisted it was the best place to kill him, where he'd be weakest. Far from the sea and far from his own lands. The elf said there's a prophecy that he can not die while at sea."_

_"I need to think" I heard footfalls and then a pause "Do you have anymore of that ointment?"_

_I didn't hear Sandro's answer as I drifted back into unconsciousness._

_ Sea's frantic cry brought me abruptly back to awareness that and the pain lancing through my chest._

_Why is he taking you from me? Can I stop him? She wailed to me. _

_She knew very well that Henri was on my 'protected' list. I didn't know why he'd ordered me taken ashore but there was a cold, hard knot in my stomach to match the inferno in my breast. But if I let Sea act against him there was no telling where She would stop so I ordered Her to wait. _

_The squadron of silent soldiers and I jounced through the woods for what seemed like a small slice of eternity but was, by the sun's movement, less than an hour. They laid my litter on the forest floor while they tried to set up a tent but Wind was agitated and kept blowing against them. They did eventually get it up but by then the waking world was slipping out of my grasp again. Someone tumbled me roughly onto a cot in the tent and a whimper escaped my lips. I was mortified. No matter how bad it was you never, ever, let them know it hurt. Except it had never hurt like this before. Which was no excuse but to be honest I had more pressing problems. I was rolled onto my back so that I was looking up into Henri's ice cold eyes. I'd never seen such a look in his eyes, not in the over thirty years I'd known him. _

_"Is it true? Are you a changeling?"_

_If I called Sea She'd kill him. I couldn't even summon the strength to nod so I just dispelled the Shadow of Gabriel. I'd never felt so naked and ashamed in my life, not even after my night with the She-King of Sodom and his not so merry men as I did under the stranger's eyes in Henri's face. One of the things I'd always admired about Henri was his ability to extend the olive branch to his foes, that Christian knack for true forgiveness that seemed absent from my own soul. There was no hint of it now._

_"All those deaths – they were all about vengeance? Weren't they?"_

_I wanted to snap back at him but what was the point? I hadn't the strength to speak or even to get the far too agitated Wind to speak for me and truth told what could I say if a thirty year friendship that had been tested and refined in the fires of battle, hardship, joy, and loss couldn't stand against the revelation of my pointy ears? And no, even in those first years when I had been all but a Draig in heart if not in body it had never been completely about vengeance. It had been about freedom of conscious because I did believe in that. It had been about truth because even if I didn't believe in the dynol's God I'd seen enough in __Rome__ that the Protestants had my sympathy. It had been about Bess and Max because if I hadn't defended them with utter ruthlessness the Catholic Inquisition would have flattened the Reformation. The sound of the pistol I'd given him being cocked seemed impossibly loud. It was one of Mannwan's special rifled guns. They were amazingly accurate in anyone's hands but mine but I could manage to hit the broad side of the barn with them. I'd given them to Henri because I'd judged he needed them more. I met his eyes begging him to understand if nothing else that I was in this state for his sake because I would never have sued for peace for anyone else. Peace wasn't in my nature, not anymore, if it ever had been. He wouldn't, not Henri. But as I stared into those eyes and saw myself weighed and found wanting for the first time I wondered if this was what I deserved, to be tried and executed in this lonely stand of trees by one of the few I'd called friend. So be it, Henri, I thought, I will not raise the Sea against you. Do with me as you see fit. I will accept any judgment you pass on me as just. I fought with every scrap of will I had and managed to lever myself onto my elbows. 'Ah, how the mighty have fallen' I thought sardonically. I did wish, live or die, for a bath. The Winds grew even more frantic and whipped around us at near hurricane force. The tent whistled then burst asunder and vanished carried far a field. The soldiers cowered in terror but Henri watched me as if none of the rest mattered. I suppose it didn't but if he didn't make up his mind the cot and I were shortly going to follow the tent into somewhere west-north-west which was probably Winds' intention. He wouldn't, not Henri. _

_Now that's denial, hatchling Agnar said sourly there's no such thing as friendship just fear. You summon Sea or he's going to blow your fool head off._

_I could see his finger tightening on the trigger just as Galahad burst through the saplings. What the hell was Sandro doing on my horse? And why was Galahad here? I felt lost and adrift. What the hell had happened in the last three months? Sandro pulled Galahad up so sharply I could see the bit tear at the corners of his mouth. I shot him an angry glance. There was no need for it Galahad was perfectly trained. They stared at each other and Wind took that opportunity to begin to lift the cot like a kite. Henri snapped around and fired and Sandro threw himself between us. At point blank range the ball shattered his skull as what remained of him plowed into me. In that instant between living and dying his ghost all but shoved me towards Galahad For the love of God GET MOVING and his enaid slammed through me giving me just enough strength with Wind's help to scramble aboard Galahad. Just as I wrapped myself around him a second shot rang out. Galahad screamed and crumpled. I rolled free letting the momentum and the Wind carry me further than it would any dynol. Carreg I whispered to Earth. These were my lands, ground I'd fought and bled over in the recent wars. The Earth knew me and it knit a hedge of protection around me. All the dynol would see was a boulder that had been rooted here since their God created the earth. The truth was, in places, the stone was so thin I could see out through it and the Wind whistled through porous crevasses bringing my Galahad's pitiful nickers. _

_"Don't shoot that horse" Henri snapped "Set a guard. The demon will likely return to it."_

_'Damn it, Henri, don't take my crimes out on my innocent horse.' I closed my eyes, centered myself, and reached out for Galahad. Without my healing skills the wound was mortal. I had nothing to give and even if I did Henri would shoot him again. The wound was mortal but it would take him hours to die from it so I silenced his brave and loyal heart myself._

_"He's close. A title and an estate to the man who brings me his ears! Gasper – fetch some hounds." I really, really hate dogs. He did it. He condemned me. Henri condemned me and Sandro died for me. It was a warm September day but I shivered in my little sanctuary as I lost consciousness again. _

_ A query from Earth woke me long after sunset. An Ellyllon was seeking entry. It was Anuion. Was he for me or against me? Did it matter? Henri condemned me maybe death was what I deserved? I dispelled the carreg. _

_He swallowed then whispered "You promised you'd be careful."_

_I didn't bother to answer. I didn't even bother raising my head. Henri condemned me._

_"Mi tywysogion?"_

_"Go back to Henri." Finally when it didn't matter I managed speech._

_"What?"_

_"He doesn't want me anywhere near him but he'll still need a protector. Go. Back. To. Henri."_

_"But you…"_

_"What did you call me?"_

_"Mi tywysogion, my Prince."_

_"Then do as you are bid. Stay with him and serve him for as long as he lives." One final gift Henri, mon cher ami._

_If I hadn't felt so abysmal I would have laughed at the look of fish-eyed shock on his face._

_"One boon then before I leave your service, if I may?"_

_I remained silent. Maybe I should let Henri find me?_

_"Let me see you to the Sea first."_

_I made no protest as he gathered me up. As he turned I watched Sandro's ghost on his last ride and I brushed my hand across the bits of Sandro that were still clinging to me. Henri for whom I had done nothing but good judged me worthy of death. Sandro who was indubitably among those I had wronged judged me worth dying for. How do you reconcile those judgments? Sorry Henri but you hunt in vain because I still want to live..._

What a difference a hundred and ten years can make Mallory's thoughts from his perch in the windowsill flowed easily along the link Better for me if I had died there since Henri was right death is all I deserve. And now that I neither want nor deserve to live I dare not die because of what it would mean for Avalon. Because all the hope's of Avalon are pinned on my survival.

His thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Not Cotton's not parrot which cawed, "Be-Calmed. Be-Calmed. Be-Calmed."

I hadn't even noticed when Mr. Not Cotton rose but Mallory already had Risnca out and leveled at his throat. "I have no quarrel with you, sir. But I don't know you or your purposes and I'll thank you to keep your distance."

Mr. Not Cotton fell back and Mallory sheathed that monstrosity of a blade. He turned his attention back out across the water toward England, no towards Avalon I wanted to be your star but even being a candle has proven beyond my reach. Like all my House all I have to offer is darkness. You should have had a Henri.

It was strange. Henri was still Mallory's unattainable pole star. His love and respect for Henri were as solid as bedrock but Henri's condemnation had shaken his faith in himself all the way to his foundations.

The only gift have I left to give you is hope. It's a two edged sword, hope is. It keeps man going but you never know where it's leading. It keeps a gambler at the table long after his luck has soured, until he has no chance of ever recovering what he has lost, but many times I've seen a man who persevered richly rewarded for his hope. I have been the gambler, may you be the one rewarded. I wish I had more. I'm sorry that I'm not what you needed me to be.

His head snapped up I could feel something shift through the link. "Get out" he commanded. Farewell Marie, may your God keep you.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest but Mallory cut her off and I felt the link suddenly go dead.

"Leave of your on volition or Sea will sweep you out. Better for the lass you carry if it's the former. I doubt any dynol would survive the backlash that is gathering in this cabin and I have no wish to harm any of you. Please leave now."

I took Elizabeth's arm and we walked swiftly from the room followed by my father and Mr. Not Cotton. No sooner were we out the door than it slammed behind us and the whole ship shuddered under a force that raised every hair on my body.

"Will?" Elizabeth was staring over my shoulder in horror at something. From the icy cold seeping around me I really didn't need to turn to know who was behind me but I turned and met the mad quicksilver eyes of Meleri anyway.

**Historical Note:** My apologies for this one because quite frankly after that chapter I'm not sure I'm up to the historical note it should have. If you have any questions you can email me at The death of Henri II is pretty much a straight lift from history except that it really was just a fluke accident. The king didn't properly secure his visor and the splinters went up instead of down. Which means all of Francis I's sons deserve Darwin awards. Henri II was the middle son. The first born died of heat stroke playing tennis. The youngest after being told to stay out of a house because everyone inside had just died of plague boldly stated that 'no prince of France' had ever died of plague. He proceeded to have an hour + long pillow fight with the contaminated bedding. He was ill with hours and dead within days.

Mallory's threats against Henri II's children are particularly vicious because Henri II was very different from most royal fathers. Generally speaking royal fathers were very aloof and had little to do with their children. Given that it wasn't unusual for royal children to be given as hostages or bartered off in treaty marriages not being quite as emotionally attached to the kids was probably an advantage. Francis I had been captured in battle when Henri was a child. To secure his own release he had promised Henri and his older brother as hostages. As soon as he was free he broke the treaty provisions and Henri and his brother were 'meanly' kept in bare stone cells for several years. Francis did eventually secure their release but he treated the boys as if it was their fault. Henri II swore he'd never do the same to his own children.

In real history Gabriel was captured by Catherine de Medici in 1574, tortured, beheaded, and quartered for the crime of regicide even though Henri II had given him a full pardon. Since I have Mallory 'removing' Gabriel to take his place I have him surviving decades beyond that. Likewise Alessandro Farnese died in 1592 so everything after that is a product of my over active imagination. Also Alessandro wasn't at Irvy though some detachments of his forces were. Unfortunately most of Mallory's 'adventures' in Russia are going to hit the proverbial 'cutting room floor' but aside from Mallory instead of illness being the cause of Ivan's death his reflections are fairly accurate. The bit about lap dogs in jeweled baskets tied to one's doublet is true. Really happened. I read the paragraph twice just to be sure and then found a second book to back up the first. The guy who brought this…unique fashion sense to the French court was Henri III, Henri II's 3rd son. He was quite a character. A military hero, cross-dressing metrosexual transvestite, and self-flagellating radical Catholic all in one package. Dude had issues – lots of issues. He picked his wife not for her political connections (she was very minor nobility) but for her hair. They were supposed to have a 10 AM wedding but it ended up 7 PM because they couldn't get the King to stop playing with her hair.

Philip really did die on 9/13/1598 after a prolonged and agonizing illness that crippled him within days of ratifying the Treaty of Vervins. The raid on Cadiz co-led by Essex and Howard is fairly accurate but Mallory keeps a better rein on things than the real Howard did. Though the raid was famed for being one of the very few military actions of its kind in which no woman was raped.

**Cal** On the subject of metrosexuals and knowing everything - to quote Methos 'I'm a little weak on pop culture.' As to your question about Bill – yes to both. He is angry that they left Mallory high and dry - that they left him to go off with Barbossa is just salt, lemon juice, and vinegar added to injury. And yes Mallory didn't make a single promise to Jane that he couldn't actually fulfill. Mallory doesn't like making promises he can't keep unless he's intentionally misleading someone. Which he does shamelessly when it suits him. As for Jack being aptly named – more than you realize (see the as yet unwritten chapter 16 ;). And yes you can definitely see the 'Dragon Blood' in Jack though it's a faint and distant echo compared to Mallory's. In Sea's defense She's never had someone to talk to before and so She doesn't really know what is and isn't across the line. She and Mallory's relationship has had its stormy moments but up until Mallory's recent melt down they had struck a pretty sane balance. Yes, she was way into Fatal Attraction territory back in the mid-1500's and the scene with Jane wasn't the last time Mallory had to put his proverbial foot down. Actually he's put is foot down so hard so often that sometimes She doesn't interfere when She should. As I told Dragon Hunter above the reason for Mallory's fear of Jack has been hinted at but I'm willing to bet that it's buried deep enough in everything else that no one will figure it out until I make it obvious late in the journal. And it is TANGENTIALLY related to why he's refusing to drop the Shadow. I actually meant to have Will's reaction to Mallory almost going sepaku on one of his daggers and forgot in the midst of everything else. Blasted slippery little details! On the mirrors – yes something else has happened – a truly twisted author. Stay tuned in chapter 14 (tangential hints) and late in the journal (full details). As for Mr. Not Cotton's parrot, nope J, the parrot isn't nearly showy enough for Mallory, a peacock isn't showy enough for Mallory. On the subject of Mr. Not Cotton here's a hint - please recall Chapter 8 (the Mystery of Mr. Cotton) while reading this section. As for the complaints about the food – he's a courtier – appearance before substance. In the courts of Europe image was more important than reality most of the time. It was ok for the peacock to be served cold and half cooked as long as it **looked** perfect. A few decades of starving blunted the edge of that but he's still a bit Hannibal Lector meets Martha Stewart meets Clara Barton meets Audrey Hepburn with a dash of Jack Sparrow. And it's scary that I can even conceive of a character that combines aspects of those people into a semi-believable whole. Chapter 17? Comes a Dragon (I know it's a shameless rip off from Highlander but it just fits) should give more insight to why Mallory chose to turn his back on his life of peace. The farmer decided his eyes were playing tricks on him – it was black, really. Since most blue topazes are made by irradiating white topaz I'm not sure if Mallory could make them. He would probably just try for a light sapphire. The only problem is light blue sapphires usually have a slight purple undertone to them that topaz doesn't so I think you're out of luck :(. And yes Mallory was definitely protesting too much over Carlos the Plum's demise. Mallory likes to pretend he's guilt free and in his mad, bad, and dangerous to know decade he was. Yes, Will was privy to Mallory's comments about not trusting Liz and, well, he can't exactly argue with Mallory's observations. I doubt he's **happy** about them but he can't argue. And Mallory has **_no_** idea Will is hearing all this – which lets you know for certain that these **are** his honest opinions. And no you're not over analyzing – it's a bit sexist but Mallory will put up with far more grief from a woman than a man. Mallory is more likely to kill a red male just from sheer annoyance than to be friends with him. You'll find that Mallory's male friends tend to be either blue or green with and occasional purple. Yellows are hit and miss and he's never met an orange he liked. (Enaid that is, since he loves tropical fruit.) One thing to remember about this particular fight is that he's up against the difabyd 'devourers of HOPE'. A fair bit of that hopelessness he has after the fight is actually a result of their attack (not all of it mind you. He is truly devastated about Argellion which makes it even harder to say how much is because of the difabyd and how much is the rotten circumstances). Problem is that Mallory's own innate arrogance is such that he never realizes it. I probably didn't hit all your notes this time but I'm slightly brain fried after this chapter and I want to get it posted….


	20. Of Wills and Sparrows

**Author's Notes:** The sonnets quoted in this chapter are Shakespeare's sonnets # 71 &72 from Riverside Shakespeare. "Goida!" is 16th century Russian for "Hurrah!". Sorry about how long it took certain sections of this chapter gave me fits and still don't read quite the way I want them to.

**Littlebird: **;)

**Rose of England: **Mallory definitely did NOT have Risnca with Jane or against the mardeth. See Comes a Dragon when I _finally_ get it written.

**Cal**You were supposed to get some Ana in the second half of this one but in the interests of getting something posted I decided to split the chapter. The next chapter is Jack/Anna/Marissa centric. As usual there is a longer note at the bottom.

**Error in the Program: **Welcome to my obsession!

**DragonHunter200:** I'm honestly writing as fast as I can. Of course reviving my Highlander story from the cyber graveyard means I have to divide my time but I'm not abandoning this one! Oh, and what we've been reading are basically journal stories yanked a bit forward so I can scatter some more of the PotC core cast betwixt and between the journal bits. (Though we will still have at least 3 journal chapters of varying lengths.)

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 13: Of Wills and Sparrows**

I swallowed as I faced those silver eyes and shivered in the sudden icy cold. Odd that though they were mad there was none of the inhuman malice that occasionally glittered in Mallory's. It also occurred to me that this was either a princess or a queen since she was Jack and Mallory's aunt and the King's sister and wife. I bowed quickly and my father followed suit. Elizabeth gave a quick curtsy and then whispered "What do you think she wants?"

"How should I know?" I hissed back. What does one say to an insane fairy princess (or queen)?

"Ask her"

"You ask her."

"It's you she's staring at."

I wasn't certain of that, I was of the opinion she was actually staring at the window into Mallory's cabin. She took a step forward and Elizabeth, my father, and I scattered out of the way though I kept myself in front of Elizabeth who made a little exasperated sound but didn't go so far as to duck around me. Mr. Not Cotton on the other hand gave her a sweeping bow different but every inch as regal as one of Mallory's. My father stiffened beside me. Since Mr. Not Cotton had only one expression for all occasions it was impossible to tell what he thought but the parrot squawked "Becalmed" at Meleri. She blinked at them and then turned to look directly at me.

"Talk to her" Elizabeth hissed in my ear.

"I don't speak El'lan" I whispered back.

"Mannwan and Argellion spoke English, maybe she does too" which still left me trying to figure out **_what _**to say. Just as I opened my mouth speak she scampered off down the companion way. Personally I was all for letting her go while staying right here. My brave, headstrong, intrepid wife was past me and on her heels in the blink of an eye.

Meleri scuttled into another cabin before I could get between them again. This could only be the library. Every wall had shelves packed so full I doubted Mallory could have gotten another sheet of paper on them and he must have used magic to offset the weight. Meleri had dropped down onto all fours and was snuffling the floor like a hound casting about for a scent. She sniffed every shelf, leaning back as a dog would for the upper shelves instead of getting on her feet like a human. Elizabeth cautiously approached one of the bookcases Meleri had moved on from and I put myself between them again. I gave the titles a cursory glance while watching Meleri. None of them were in English and it looked as if there were at least a half-dozen different languages represented in this case alone, maybe more.

Elizabeth jumped a little as Meleri yelped and whined and then began digging at one of the books. We both shivered as frost began to creep across the windows. She finally succeeded at knocking it from the overfull shelf and then tried to pick up the book with her teeth but it was far too thick. She growled at it in frustration and laid her ears back flat against her pale green hair. Finally she sank her teeth into the already much gnawed on cover and drug in backwards towards us. It was only then as the fine silk shroud she wore hitched up a bit that I noticed the gaping rents in her pale, undead flesh and I remembered Mallory's words 'snicker snack front and back'. Elizabeth made a small horrified sound and I swallowed hard and then shivered in the arctic blast as she dropped the tome at our feet. Elizabeth knelt down but Meleri cringed away and growled at her before scampering out the door. Thank God, I was freezing.

Elizabeth scooped up the book as my father commented "That was the one Jack lambasted him with."

My father had called it battered in his story. It looked like an entire pack of rats had attacked its front cover. Elizabeth started to set on a desk to read it.

"It'd be warmer in the cabins" I said as I tried to keep my teeth from chattering. My breath hung like a plume in the air. I hadn't seen that happen in over ten years. I hated the cold and had never missed the biting London winters. She nodded and I led the way out of the library. The candles in the passenger cabins all flickered to life. That gave me an idea.

"Peregrine, thank you for your hospitality" I began nervously while trying not to feel silly talking to a boat. I **knew** from seeing through Mallory's eyes that he was no mere construct of wood but still it felt odd "I know you can't speak to us but would you answer a couple of questions? One flicker of the candles for yes, two for no."

An instant flicker.

"Is Mallory still alive?"

One flicker. I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding. I figured Peregrine, Wind, and Sea would have definitely reacted with violence to his death but it was nice to have it confirmed that he was alive. I glanced down the hall at Mr. Not Cotton who had planted himself across Mallory's door like a sentry. As Jack would say, very interesting, with everything else that had happened I'd all but forgotten the mystery of who Mr. Not Cotton really was and why he was here.

"Is Meleri still here?" Elizabeth asked.

Two flickers.

"Do you know where she went?"

Two flickers.

"Do you know if she'll be back?"

Two flickers.

I whispered "Do we need to do something about Mr. Not Cotton?" There was a long pause as the Peregrine apparently considered the situation then two flickers.

There were undoubtedly other questions we should be asking but it had been a very long day. Elizabeth curled up on the bed. She was so beautiful. It suddenly occurred to me there were much better things we could be doing on this bed than reading some rat chewed book. It would warm us both up too. I started to join her on the bed and froze as someone spoke behind me.

"Would ye read a bit o it te me?"

Good God, how could I have forgotten my father was in the room? I could feel my face turning crimson and I was thankful that I was facing Elizabeth. From the twinkle in her eye she'd noticed my mortification. Elizabeth glanced down at the book as I settled next to her and frowned "What an odd colored ink"

I glanced down and swallowed "I don't think it's ink, it's blood."

"Really" she sounded far more fascinated than horrified but that's my Elizabeth completely infatuated with all the things proper ladies shouldn't be. She cleared her throat.

"No offense, lass, but I'd like te hear Will read, please" there was an eager light in my father's eyes. Elizabeth, having finally gotten her hands on **_something_** written by Mallory was clearly reluctant to relinquish it and instead of handing me the book simply tilted it into the light. I licked my lips nervously "There are two separate hands, one in regular ink and the other in blood" I recognized the second as being Mallory's ultra neat hand though the writing was a little thinner and a bit crabbed compared to what I was used to from the books he'd made for me. Of course writing in the carchar couldn't have possibly have been easy. "The one in regular ink begins…

**_"No longer mourn for me when I am dead_**

**_Than you shall hear the surly bell _**

**_Give warning to the world that I am fled_**

**_From this vile world with vildest worms do dwell_****_;"_**

****

I paused when I reached the first bit of Mallory's writing which was crammed the spaces between the lines. I glanced at my father and was moved when I realized his face was wet with tears. "Kitty should have lived te hear this" his voice shook "she would 'ave been so proud o' ye. Mr. Hill, yer grandfather, he was a learned man but neither o' us could read." He wiped at his eyes and waved at me to continue. A red silk handkerchief fluttered to him from somewhere. He mumbled a thanks and as I turned back to Mallory's words my finger tips brushed the blood and suddenly…

_ I pricked my finger and dipped the sliver of fingernail in the blood and wrote "VILDEST, Will? Someday people are going to think that was a real word. You really do need to stop making up your own bloody words. And your penmanship is abysmal." _

There was a playful, teasing note to the words. How on earth could Mallory be that nonchalant locked in a two by two by two foot box? I glanced over at Elizabeth and could tell by the look in her eyes that this time she was on the inside with me. Why now and not before?

"Don't stop" she hissed at me.

**_Nay, if you read this line remember not_**

**_The hand that writ it, for I love you so,_**

**_That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,_**

**_If thinking on me should make you woe._**

**__**

_I didn't forget you, Will. And I won't, not for as long as there's breath in my body (and given some of my gifts perhaps even without) I will never forget you. Of all the people I arranged for Sea to bring me word from, you were the only one who remained faithful in spite of my ten year silence. I DID NOT FORGET YOU, DAMN IT! While an occasional trickle of water finds its way to me bearing missives I have never found a way to get anything out. I'm so sorry Will. I've tried and tried. I don't know if your paradise exists but if it does and all things are made clear then I hope you at least know that I never stopped writing. It's all the post's fault you never received them. You'd think a prince could get better service. _

This section had a grim, gallows humor but there was no comparing this Mallory with the one we'd just left. There was a bu bbling optimism just under the surface that I could almost taste. He was far more upset that this Will was insinuating that Mallory had been a faithless friend than he was with his predicament.

****

****

**_O, if I say you look upon this verse,_**

**_When I perhaps compounded am with clay,_**

**_Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,_**

**_But let your love even with my life decay;_**

****

_Are you trying to order me around, Shakespeare? I'm not part of your acting company anymore (pity those were some of the best years of my life. I never would have thought I could be so happy among 'common folk') so you can stuff the thought that my love for a faithful friend will ever dim. I'll miss you forever Will. It's too soon, you were only fifty-two. The letter that came with this book didn't mention how you died only what was to be done with the book and papers but I'll wonder until the day I die myself (and probably after given my luck) if I could have saved you if I wasn't locked in this …box._

The wave of rage and frustration that accompanied the thought of the box defied mere words. It was a howl of grief and fury the likes of which I'd never personally felt and it left all of us breathless. There was a flash of pain and I recognized it as Mallory's as he banged something against the unforgiving stone.

_"I want out" _the words almost seemed as if they'd been shouted into the cabin. They weren't written anywhere on the page that I could see but they still rang in the air in Mallory's real voice, except its native beauty was marred with desperation. A fluttering panic seemed to sweep through me and suddenly I could feel the walls pressing in on all sides, could feel the strange numbness of limbs folded into a fixed position for so long I could barely remember what movement was, wondered if my memories of any sound but my own voice which had faded to a thin ghost of itself were real. All that I could be sure of was the raging firestorm of hunger in the core of my being. The book in my hands was my only **tangible** proof of a world beyond these stone walls. I could feel Mallory forcing his breathing back under control, felt him forcing himself to accept the walls again as he waited for the opportune moment. He laid his head on the book. Sea was real, the Winds were real, Peregrine was real, and with a determination like bedrock he resolved to weather anything **_HE_** could dish out with mind and will intact but he trembled deep down with a terror he'd never admit to at the thought of facing **_HIM_** again.

"Will" Elizabeth's voice broke through whatever spell the book had on it "Your father."

I bolted off the bed and into the companionway but he was already out of sight. I made for the deck. The only thing keeping my father on board was Sea. Part of me wondered if Peregrine had asked Her to or if She was merely reacting to an older order. It was irrelevant what was important was that what we'd just experienced via Mallory's blood was my father's worst nightmare and he was still trapped in a blind panic. If found myself wishing for my grandfather's knack with horses since it would be more useful at the moment than any talent for sword smithing. As I started to call to him I realized I didn't know what word to use, Bill seemed disrespectful, Mr. Turner (or Blake) too formal as did father, what had he called his own father?

"Da" I barked at him, he whirled and then blinked at me.

"Will?" the name was spoken tentatively.

"It was just a bit of magic, it wasn't real."

In the light of the Peregrine's lamps I could see the panic draining out of him then he grinned at me as his whole face lit up "Ye called me Da. I've waited over twenty years te hear that." He studied the boards of the deck for a moment "I'm sorry that I didn't talk te ye when Mr. Mallory wanted me te, son, ye've no idea how sorry."

"I forgive you, Da" felt both awkward and wonderful to say it "you didn't know."

He looked as guilt ridden as Mallory felt as he muttered "I should 'ave."

I wrapped an arm around him "All's well that ends well, Da. Let's let the past go and work on building a future?"

"Thank ye" he pushed me gently away "Now ye get back below with that lass." He gave me a wink and I felt my face heating up again. He'd noticed. "I'll just stay up here for a bit. Oh, and watch Mr. Not Cotton, he's a courtier."

Elizabeth snickered the whole way back to 'our' cabin where she promptly picked the book back up. I nearly groaned. It wasn't that I wasn't curious about the blasted book I just thought it could wait, preferably until tomorrow. I read the next few lines from the corner of my eye will I nibbled on Elizabeth's neck.

****

**_Lest the wise world should look into your moan,_**

**_And mock you with me after I am gone_**

_"Will, what I'd do to the man who mocked my affection for you is not only unfit for polite company but would also sicken the impolite rabble as well." _

Mallory's tone was both lightly teasing and deadly serious. I made a mental note not to disparage this Shakespeare guy in any way around Mallory (or at all since Wind might rat me out). I moved on to her ear and she gave a little sigh arching into my ministrations.

"Will"

I sighed. I knew that tone. One of the guests at our wedding had told me that the secret to a happy marriage was compromise except it seemed like I was always the one giving ground.

"Could we just finish this first page and then I'm all yours, promise."

How could I say no? And it wasn't that I wasn't interested I was just more interested in something else. "Anything for you love."

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek that I hoped was a very small deposit for latter.

**_O, lest the world should task you to recite_**

**_What merit liv'd in me that you should love_**

**_After my death, dear love, forget me quite,_**

**_For you in me can nothing worthy prove;_**

**__**

_William Shakespeare, I don't know what inspired this bit of self deprecation but if you don't cease and desist when I get out of here I'm going to raise you from the dead and beat some better sense into you._

**_Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,_**

**_To do more for me than my own desert,_**

**_And hang more praise upon deceased I_**

**_Than niggard truth would willingly impart:_**

**__**

_If I sang your praises from dawn til dusk Will there would yet be words unsaid. No need for virtuous lies even if I am quite good at them. _

**_O, lest your true love speak well of me untrue,_**

**__**

_I'll lie about you if I damn well please._

**_My name be buried where my body is,_**

**_And live no more to shame nor me nor you._**

**_For I am sham'd by that which I bring forth,_**

**_And so should you, to love things nothing worth_******

****

_Will the world will remember your name and your work if I have to put a spell on it when I get out of here. Not that your work actually needs any help from me you ninny. And unlike me you have nothing to be ashamed of._

Under the last of the poem was a more formal letter cramped onto the bottom of the page and then creeping up the sides as he ran out of room there in spite of the miniscule writing.

_Sometime in the fall of 1616 (or at least I guess that given the dates on your executors paperwork). _

_My dearest Will,_

_Words can not encompass my grief at word of your death. The book and papers from the executor of your estate don't give any indication of how you met your end and what magic I can work in this cage can give me no clues so I can only hope that you did not suffer. My eternal thanks for your thoughtful gift of reading material and my profound apologies for its current state but there isn't much room in here and I was forced to chew most of the front cover off in order to open it. (How on earth Sea managed to get it in here is an absolute mystery to me). The green sections were actually quite tasty but even as starved as I am the gold gilt and the red dye were quite disagreeable. Overall it was still the best meal I've had in over a decade. While I'd have preferred to have lifted a glass at the Rampant Lion with you I'm thankful for the hospitality Will. And honestly Will it was about bloody TIME that you actually published your works instead of letting a pack of weasels do hack jobs on it. Things here are exactly the same as they've been for the last 10 years._

I was glad my father wasn't in the cabin. There was no repeat of the earlier panic but you could still feel the press of the carchar. If anything I could almost hear him say "Yes, it looks hopeless but you're forgetting one thing, I'm the Prince of Avalon." Sometimes the brothers were as different as night and day and sometimes they were so much alike it was frightening. But just the thought of it would likely have hung heavy in my father's mind.

_So I've started practicing what minor magics I can in my spacious accommodations. I stumbled across one that allows you to impart memories and thoughts into the written word. I had thought it a rather silly thing when I stumbled across it in Avalon's rather disorganized library (something that WILL change when I am King along with so much else) but I find that it may be useful now that I seem to have a shortage of paper. You had so many questions for me when you first discovered what I am and to my shame if I did not know the answer I made it up. I'd like to set the record straight and to answer one of the few questions I actually dodged – how did a Prince of Avalon come to be a traveling player?_

Elizabeth gasped clearly over whelmed by that first rush of the world through Mallory's eyes (and even more importantly ears).

_Dawn was over. I considered actually getting out of bed as I watched the sun glittering off the wavelets through the window. The cliffs of Dover rose like a white wall on the horizon. Bess was undoubtedly furious at my long absence and had enough work for three of me._

_(Hush) Sea whispered (rest)._

_I nestled more snuggly into the feather bed taking care not to disturb my artfully splayed hair. Its blue was never more striking than when set against dazzling white which is why I seldom wore it among the dynol. It wasn't that I didn't have faith in my ability to weave Shadow it was simply foolish to leave oneself exposed. I shivered a little despite the warmth of the down blankets and silk sheets. He was going to shoot me. One look at my face and he'd been ready to shoot me. Sea wrapped Herself around me. I usually met her in the window casement. While She had an admirable control of her liquid form She inevitably dripped a bit and I wasn't fond of damp sheets but lately I hadn't bothered and had instead let her coil around me soggy pillows be damned. _

_(You need more rest. You were so hurt. Rest with me.) Sea purred (and I won't let anyone hurt you again.)_

_I felt my eyelids fluttering back shut. I really should check on Bess. I'd been unconscious for three months and convalescing for…for…how long had I been convalescing?_

_(Not long enough. Besides they never properly appreciated you!) Sea snapped angrily. No, they hadn't the ungrateful wretches. (Just rest a little longer, safe in my keeping) She cooed (**I** will never revile you. You will always be protected and cherished with me. Sleep.)_

_Why was I fighting? I didn't want to get up anyway. Sea turned me away from the windows, curling me into Her embrace (Dream with me, forever)._

_(Rhys) whispered a very, very quite voice (Rhys, damn it answer me!)_

_"G" (Sssh) Peregrine hissed at me. That roused me a bit but I pretended to still be dreaming. It took a bit of work since Grine has been designed to speak to Sea to exclude Her without Her knowledge._

_(What's amiss?)_

_Uncomfortable silence then (I would have bet my mast, spars, and rigging that I would never have to say these words but Rhys you need to get up and do SOMETHING.)_

_I wanted to sit up and clean out my ears but apparently for some reason we were sneaking behind Sea's 'back' (Did you just tell me to STOP resting?)_

_(Rhys, She's been keeping you asleep for months and for some reason you keep letting Her.)_

_(Why?)_

_(Has She been keeping you asleep? – You DIED on us Rhys, more than once. And even though you clawed your way back, you had us both terrified. She wants to protect you. Why **are** **you** letting Her do it?)_

_(I'm not) I protested. My boat (ship!) didn't call me a liar to my face. Was I? I thought about it for a moment. I didn't want to go back out there where a set of pointed ears could end a friendship that had lasted for decades. We'd faced DEATH together, more than once, what were a set of pointy ears? Peregrine had a point I was …sulking? Hiding? Both? Whichever and whatever it was not to be bourn. I was a PRINCE OF AVALON and I DO NOT HIDE._

_I shrugged off Sea's fragile web like the gossamer it was. It could never have held me if I had not acquiesced. Sea certainly could have spun something far stronger but She had never intended to hold me against my will. I swung out of my saturated to the point of leaving puddles on the floor bed. I was suddenly very thankful for all little spells I'd puzzled out over the years against mildew and whatnot. _

_Sea merely watched me with worried eyes as I threw open the windows to hear what news the Winds might bring me. _

Elizabeth flinched in my arms and covered her ears with her hands.

"Just ride it out" I whispered to her. She blinked up at me eyes wide. I massaged her shoulders and slowly she relaxed and promptly dove right back into the book. I sighed and resigned myself to one more story from Mallory's admittedly fascinating past.

_April of 1599! I had slept away the fall, the winter, and a fair portion of the spring. Bess was going to want me flayed alive. I whirled away from the windows to dress and stopped staring into one of the mirrors. I'd grown considerably during my extended nap. I ran my fingers over the sunken scars in my chest, shook off a chill, and went to see if I owned anything that still fit while keeping an ear to the Wind. She COULD NOT have been that stupid, could she? The bed squished as I sat on it heavily (or as heavily as my bird bones could). I tossed my clothes onto the desk to keep them dry. She'd given Essex an army and sent him to Ireland to face a rebellion raised by the Ui Neill of Tir Eoghan. Disaster was brewing. I needed to go to Ireland NOW. But I'd promised Bess that I would leave both Essex and Ireland to her and with the exception of the odd bit of piracy with Gran I'd done just that. Ireland might technically be mine but I hadn't been comfortable there since Rathlin. I pushed the memories of the massacre I'd ordered and participated in away. Rathlin was home to nothing but sea birds and sheep these days. There would be no need for me to go there and thus no need to break my word to Bess. Nor did I need to challenge Essex or O'Neill directly. There was more ugly politics on Ireland than the whole rest of Europe combined all I had to do was set the clans fighting each other. So which particular bees' nest did I want to give a good shaking? As I dressed I sorted through the possibilities and settled on the Ely O Caebhaills of Leim ui Bhanain. Wind gleefully played in my still loose hair as I stepped into the morning sun and headed for Ireland. _

Watching Elizabeth experience flying with Mallory was actually more fun than doing it again myself (particularly since I was a bit nervous about heights myself. Not terrified, mind you, but still not entirely comfortable with nothing beneath me but air either.) Her mouth dropped open in a prefect 'O' as she blinked in wonder. I was terribly tempted to kiss her but decided not to break the spell. When her brow furrowed a bit I quickly brushed the paper with my finger tips…

_I circled the place again, loath to land in the keep for no reason I could name but I didn't have to. The O'Caebhaill was out hunting. Much better. I took in the terrain from my lofty position and my plans made I settled back down to Earth. The baying of his hounds told me I had little time. The stag burst out of the trees into the clearing I'd chosen and snorted in surprise. Our eyes met and he flicked his ears forward and then back as the Prince of the Forest sought a way out of the trap he found himself in. "Trust me and I will set you free" I whispered in El'lan. He didn't understand the words as such but these were my lands, no matter that this was the first time I had set foot in them. He was one of Earth's Children, I spoke to Earth and Earth spoke to him. He lowered his regal head in agreement and then tossed it high. The antlers that would crown him this winter were little more than velvet wrapped nubs and yet he still had all the bearing of the Forest Lord that he was. He whirled to face the hounds and I slipped just in front of him so that his antlers seemed to emerge from my head. I could have simply used Shadow for this but the people of Ireland had enough of the blood of my people flowing through their veins that you never knew when a wild talent might crop up unexpectedly, (which was yet another reason to avoid it), so it was best to mix illusion with reality._

_Cahir O'Caebhaill the current O'Caebhaill and his hounds burst through the undergrowth and into the glen. The hounds surged toward us only to be met by a wall of flames. Lightening would have been more impressive but I wasn't bloody Zeus. And while I could have created Shadow lightening it wouldn't have really scorched the dogs. Not smiling as they went yelping away with their tails between their legs was quite a challenge. The stag shivered behind me but stood his ground. Most of the Cahir's retainers fled with the dogs but I had the flames cut off his retreat. His shaggy pony rolled his eyes but with a single whispered word I soothed him. Irish ponies lacked the refinement I preferred in my mounts but they could jump better than horses several hands taller than they were. If you wanted a good hunter an Irish pony was the beast of choice. Cahir looked even more wild eyed than his mount which suited me perfectly. I spun Shadows of a great antlered crown while putting an older version of my own face on the 'Horned Hunter'. Was that? I sniffed again. Yes, it was. Cahir O'Caebhaill experience warrior and murderer had just soiled himself. Explaining that away later should be interesting. _

_'Oh, just get on with it' Angnar grumbled._

_'Au contraire', Nimrais countered 'Nothing flavors the meat like terror. The lad has a gift for the theatrical. Pity he doesn't plan on feeding us this one.'_

_'The lad is absolutely ridiculously flamboyant.'_

_'He's tasteful, which you wouldn't know if it bit you on the snout.'_

_Nimrais proceeded to suit actions to words and the two of them returned forthwith to their eternal battle. Just as well Cahir was too unmanned to actually draw either the sword or the pistol at his waist. And (more importantly) too frightened to look too deeply since there was Ellyllon blood in this one's veins._

_"On your knees, worm" I commanded. He fell off the horse in his haste. The pony sensibly started grazing while his master was otherwise occupied completely ignoring the smoke I had billowing around the glen. "You will not ally with the Ui Neill and will raise forces against him or you will face the wrath of the Sidhe. Go ere you can not." At that Cahair scrambled backwards so fast he almost somersaulted. "And Cahir – the deer of this wood are mine. The O'Caebhaill who harms one of them will die by a woman's hand." I followed it with a proper curse when he was gone, sent his pony after him, and had a good laugh as the stag strode serenely into the forest. I had other clan rivalries to stir and so I flew swiftly south. _

_I spent the next several weeks stirring up trouble and then decided that since I hadn't seen Gran in forever it was time to pay her a visit._

_I knew the inlets, islets, and marshes of Clew Bay better than I knew the back of my own hand. To the Englishmen sent to subdue Ireland this bay was cause for digestive upset and strong drink and the **woman** who ruled it 'an unnatural creature who is the nurse of all rebellion'. Apparently Bingham had fled England because he couldn't stomach serving a Queen only to fetch up against Gran the Pirate She-King of Ireland. The irony was exquisite. I landed on the battlements and slipped silently as a wraith into the keep. I shushed the stones joyous greeting but patted them fondly so they wouldn't take offense. Slinking around Gran's holding was always a challenge because blind Maeve was a true seer and had ears like a dolphin. To make things more difficult I never used an outer Shadow just the one that disguised me as human. I solicited the stones for Gran's location. Yes, it was cheating, but it a minor cheat. She wasn't in the keep itself at all but out on the headland. Odd that I hadn't seen her when I flew over. She must have gone out as I came in. I abandoned all pretense of stealth when the West Wind informed me she was crying. Gran didn't cry without…did Gran cry at **all**?_

_I paused next to one of the trees the edged the 'beach' not wanting to startle her and was dismayed to see how much she had aged. If I was 66 then Gran was nearly 70 but even if her hair was no longer the fiery red it was when we'd fought the Turks together her enaid still burned like an inferno. Usually I compared people to gemstones because that's what most reminded me of but not Gran. Gran was flames. I'd never met anyone else whose enaid flickered and flared like Gran's. Red and gold tongues of light twined around each other. Sometimes red dominated sometimes gold. I could watch her for days. What were wrinkles, crow's feet, and skin like well tanned leather compared to this? Less than nothing. Let the blind dynol courtiers pant around some shallow beauty like bucks in rut give **me** someone like Gran any day be she seventeen or seventy. I didn't even notice her son Tiboid until he spoke "Mother, he isn't coming. When has Maeve ever been wrong? Come back inside before you take a chill."_

_Tiboid REALLY should have known better. She was going to take the hide off of him for that. Mind you **I** said things like that to her but I was faster than he was and I wasn't her son. But as she swung around to castigate him she spotted me. It isn't often that people seem move quickly to me especially 70 year old women but Gran practically flew across the strand while Tibbot gawked like an idiot._

_"You're alive!" She nearly sent us both to the ground "Meave saw your death."_

_Tiboid cocked his pistol "Get away from my mother, puca."_

_Oh, now THAT was **low**. I didn't look a bit like a puca. I'm much too beautiful._

_"Tiboid ny Lung Burc put that pistol away. You're still young enough for me to beat bloody." He flushed almost as red as Gran's hair used to be. Of course being taken to task by one's mother at over thirty-two couldn't be easy to stomach either._

_"Meave saw you dead De la Marck." Tiboid's voice held a strained mix of hope and fear._

_"I was sorely wounded but recovered. That must be what Meave Saw." Gran took that on face value but Tiboid was still wary. That cut. I'd mid-wived the brat into the world, had taught him fashion, fighting, and sea-faring as his godfather and on a blind seer's word I was suddenly not to be trusted. Mind you it was open to question if I should **ever **have been trusted but I'd done no harm to Gran or anything of hers. And Meave had certainly made sure that it was well known Guillim De la Mack had a dash of Sidhe blood just like her so it wasn't as if they **didn't** know there was something a little different about me. Tiboid tucked the pistol back into his sash but he didn't greet me either. Brat. Mayhap **I'd** beat him bloody if his mother didn't. _

_But there were more important matters to attend to "Gran where are your ships?"_

_"Bingham's men seized them" she all but growled. _

_"Bingham was reassigned" and a pretty penny **THAT** favor had cost me with Bess "and you were given the right to 'maintain' yourself at sea." That one had cost me even more Bess had been…less than best pleased to give Gran carte blanche to commit piracy in the Queen's name. There was no way in _**HELL **_that was going for naught. "Then we just have to commandeer them."_

_Tiboid gave me a pale shadow of my own glare. I was better but he was pretty good for a dynol and I'd always liked those blue eyes of his. I'd always been impressed with how icy he could make them but I didn't appreciate having it directed at me. Uppity little twerp. "Don't you think we've tried that?"_

_Don't hit him, don't hit him "But you're forgetting one very important thing - **I **wasn't there."_

_Tiboid sighed like he was about to explain rigging to a lubber "You were great in your day, De la Marck, but you're over three score. You're **OLD."**_

_Now that was hysterically funny given that it would probably take me at least two hundred and fifty years JUST to reach Tiboid's physical age. Instead of laughing myself into stitches which would be far too undignified I look over at Gran "I'm not old. Are you old?"_

_Gran grinned at me, the smile tugging at the scar she'd gotten the day after Tiboid was born fighting the Turks, then turned to him "You just leave this to the **young** folk, sonny." _

_I gave her a courtly bow and held out an arm which she swatted away with a mock glare. Gran always carried her own weight and woe betide the man who forgot that._

_"We'll be back presently" and just because I knew he hated it I threw in his childhood nickname in a tone that was just shy of a sneer "Toby."_

_He had to half-run to get back ahead of us "Mother, De la Marck, be reasonable. Do you actually think the English are just going to let you walk in and sail out with our ships?"_

_"Not at all, I suspect I'll have to kill a number of the fools while your mother and her crews take the ships."_

_Toby blinked at me "Think damn highly of your self don't you, old fool"_

_He didn't get to finish his sentence because I knocked the impertinent arse out. Gran glared at me before stepping over her recumbent son. _

_ Wind kept me abreast of events on the ships while I terrorized Bingham's men. We'd only brought a handful of Gran's men along. I could have done all this myself with Sea and Winds' help but it was never wise to appear too powerful and people resent those to give too much help. Better by far to share both the danger and the glory. I appraised what was left of my 'opponents' as I tried to decide who I should leave as the sole survivor. I wanted to make sure that the English were well aware that this was one of DRACO'S operations not Gran's and that DRACO would act against anyone who dared to presume revenge against Gran or hers. Perhaps the unlucky lad who was about to wet himself? And then my eye fell on Captain John Bingham, Richard Bingham's younger brother. I killed the whelp in one fluid move and then set out after John. Mine, **Mine**, **MINE!**_

_'What are you up to now?' Angnar snarled while Nimrais countered 'The lad is an artist let him work without your griping.'_

_I ignored the commentary and neatly pinned John Bingham in a corner._

_"You and your brother were warned" I hissed at him. Richard Bingham had been with me at Lepanto against the Turks that had earned him a little leeway but not this much. It didn't buy them to right to carte blanch murder and mayhem against a friend particularly after he'd been ordered to back off by Bess herself. Or was this Bess' way of getting back at me for my long absence?_

_I thrust Risnca up under his ribs while binding his soul to his flesh even as I let Nimrais and Angnar fight over his life's blood. Captain John Bingham had murdered Gran's eldest son Owen O'Flaherty. Owen (unlike the rest of his family) had been innocent of both piracy and rebellion. He'd only wanted to live in peace (terribly unrealistic – there was no such thing as peace) and had been hiding in the hinterlands with a handful of men and the bulk of Gran's huge cattle and horse herds. John Bingham operating under his brother's orders had sought him out, asked for hospitality, and after he and his men had eaten their fill they had dealt Owen twelve wounds and left him to die bound and alone. I cast about for an appropriate vengeance. _

_"You're supposed to be dead" he burbled as a bit of blood the Draigs had missed slipped down his chin. _

_Interesting – who had been spreading rumors of my death? _

_I let a mocking smile curl my lips "You can't kill an Immortal" I whispered into his ear as I easily pinned both his hands over his head. I pulled Risnca free and he half-sobbed as I twisted it on the way out. So much for the tough warrior. He tried to wrest free again but I held him as easily as if he was the child and I was the adult. I heated the blade which the Draigs actually enjoyed even if it reduced the amount of blood they got. Twelve wounds for Owen – twelve for John Bingham except I wedded the fire that burns but does not consume to John's. I ignored his cries as I bound him to one of the posts that dotted the shore. _

_"You tell your brother – if he moves against Gran again I will make your fate seem benevolent." _

_He panted chest heaving and then finally managed intelligible speech "Please kill me."_

_I turned to go and he screamed "Mercy" at my back._

_Gran appraised us both "Now isn't that what a hundred mothers cried when you murdered their children? In the end you reap what you sow." Her words were directed to Bingham but a chill crept up my back anyway. I wasn't as blood soaked as some but I was no innocent either and never had been. I decided to gag him since I didn't want him to loose his voice before passing the warning on to Sir Richard. I turned the Wind so that he wouldn't hear what Gran and I had to say. _

_"You were supposed to stay with the ships" I said in a steadier tone than I felt. To have a bit of Sidhe Blood flowing in your veins was a mark of distinction but to BE Sidhe was another matter entire. There were those who would seek to slay a Sidhe just for existing, many would seek to bind you to their will, a few would all but worship the ground you walked on, and a fair number would run screaming into the night. Gran never ran without a plan but I didn't know what she would do either and after the disaster with Henri… I had never wanted to bolt so badly in my life and my guts were in hopeless and painful knots. _

_"Your name isn't De la Marck" It wasn't really a question but I shook my head anyway. _

_"What is it?" There was a sharp almost greedy glint in Gran's eyes. The red of her enaid burned so bright that it engulfed the gold and was nearly blinding. Beautiful but dangerous, Gran was always dangerous. It was one of the things I loved about her. _

_"We don't use our real names outside of our own realms" which sounded better than 'I don't have one'. The gold flared and twined with the scarlet. Once in India I'd watched a snake charmer, I felt like the cobra completely mesmerized by the dance of her enaid. Some vague corner of my consciousness that wasn't fascinated was of the opinion that I should put a bit of distance between us. I tried to pull my eyes away, to see mere flesh, but I was no dynol. _

_"Won't trust me with your name, wouldn't trust me with the truth. What a pair we could have made" she whispered and then gave me the surprise of my life by kissing me. It was hardly my first kiss given that I'd been playing at being adult for decades but it was the first one that **wasn't **an act. I threw caution to the wind and kissed her as I'd always wanted to. If she stabbed me in the back – well I heal. Besides what did it matter? She was too old and I was..! umm, ahh, not too young anymore? She broke off the kiss with a self satisfied smirk leaving me reeling in shock. That I would eventually reach puberty was a given and one that I had been eagerly awaiting but now that the reality seemed to have finally manifested I was at a bit of a loss. It wasn't that I was innocent. If I had ever been the night with the She-King of Sodom and his not so merry men would have taken care of that, but I wasn't…_

_"That was so when you're back under the Hill you can remember what you missed out on by not speaking your mind" and with that she walked away head held high, grey hair flowing in the breeze. I thought about chasing after her, of protesting that I'd been too young but the truth was I was still too young and she was too old. As Mannwan had told me long ago an Ellyllon with a dynol was nothing but a tragedy. I watched the horizon long after her the stern of her ship had passed over it. A whimper from Bingham reminded me that there were other tasks to attend to. Once John passed my warning on to his brother his spirit would be able to slip free of his tortured flesh. I debated if I should tell him that or not and ultimately chose to leave him ignorant before departing for Leim ui Bhanain. _

_ As soon as I set foot now the grounds outside the keep I knew why I had been so reluctant before, there was no missing the stench of the caddug. According to Argellion there were plenty of faire, benevolent cyfae so why was it I kept meeting up with the monsters? By the smell this had been its den for thousands of years and as I walked across the grounds I could hear the wail of the women the druids had sacrificed to it. Odd that, usually 'ghosts' or ysbryd to be more accurate, faded over time becoming less and less real until after a few decades or at the most centuries you actually had to hunt to find them. (Though Blood always calls out, forever, the Bible definitely got that one right) But not here, I could smell their fear on the Wind even with the reek of caddug and their terror was a palpable presence and they had an abundance of company… _

Elizabeth shivered beside me. I glanced down into her tear filled eyes.

"That's enough" I said as I tried to prize the book from Elizabeth's grip but she clung like a barnacle.

"I'm alright, Will" she said fairly clearly and then sniffled. I found her one of Mallory's handkerchief's (blue and silver to match the cabin instead of his own signature red). After a moment or two she squared her shoulders clearly intending to go back to reading.

"Elizabeth, you shouldn't be upset, it isn't good for the baby" I said as I brushed my fingers ever so lightly over her stomach. I was going to be a FATHER.

"I'm not, Will, not really. They were just so frightened and to think of them staying that way for centuries, sacrificed to that thing." She drew a deep breath and then looked up at me and grinned wickedly "Besides I thought you were in a hurry to finish this page…"

I most definitely was. As I settled back beside her it occurred to me that there had been multitudes of ghosts on the battlefields but I'd never even noticed them because Mallory hadn't considered them worthy of attention. Clearly the ghosts of Leim ui Bhanain were different.

_But the others were far more recent. Cahir apparently had decided to 'cut his loses'. Instead of paying the MacMahon mercenaries he'd hired he had invited them to a feast and slaughtered them all. How terribly tacky. It was getting to the point that one couldn't accept a simple dinner invitation in Ireland without fearing for one's life. That didn't on the other hand explain the hungry ghosts. Those pricked my curiosity, to the best of my knowledge the keep hadn't been subject to a famine recently. __One in particular caught my eye. The features were eerily similar to my own (with the exception of his…unfortunate nose. Thank the Draigs I didn't have THAT nose) but he wasn't Ellyllon. He must have been a Riggion, probably of Myrrdin or Talesin's lines since those were related to House Penthalion thrice over._

_"Help me" he whispered. Bloody hell, not ANOTHER one that didn't realize he was dead! They were so damn pathetic and there wasn't really anything I could do for them. I quickened my pace but he followed me, "Please, I'm starving and it hurts, please." I did my best to ignore him and the others. The MacMahons were easy. They were angry about being betrayed and killed but I'd been dealing with that kind of thing my entire life. The sacrifices were in all honesty more fascinating than anything. I'd never seen ghosts linger so long as bright as the day they were slain but my persistent shade had been joined by a number of more faded others all staring directly at me with hollow eyes. I glanced at the original out of the corner of my eye. I'd learned long ago not to look at or speak to the ones that didn't know they were dead. It only made things harder later. His eyes were hungry not hollow. Strange, generally starvation victims eyes stopped being hungry near the end and were merely hollow. He must not have died of starvation then. I wanted to make a closer inspection but that would only encourage him. _

_"I know you can hear me. Why won't you help me?" his voice cracked in his desperation. He had been Riggion. I could even feel the faint Blood connection. He'd died in the keep behind the chapel. "Please, I'm begging you. Don't leave me here. Please, my mother and sisters are depending on me." He threw himself at my feet._

_What I had to say to Cahir wasn't important enough for this. There were other places I could contact him so I turned and left._

_"Damn you" he wailed after me._

_I settled back to earth about a day's hard ride from Leim ui Bhanain near a hidden spring. I stripped, warmed the water a bit, and slipped in for a much needed bath. An oubliette, I decided. Cahir must have an oubliette in the keep that was the only explanation for so many starvation victims over so long a stretch. And it must be a very active oubliette to produce so many. I rested my head on the mossy bank and napped in the steaming water…_

_"PLEASE! They need me."_

_I snapped awake staring into faded brown eyes. Ghosts are bound to their llaith saifle unless a necromancer summons them and I certainly hadn't brought this annoying chap along for the ride. So what was he if he wasn't a ghost? Ymrodio? Spirit walking wasn't an ability I, any of the Exiles, or my instructors had had so I'd never actually seen it in action. Could it mimic the ysbryd so closely? If he was a ymrodio then he WASN'T dead yet. I vaulted out of the water and shrugged into my clothes mid flight. A few things ended up a bit askew but there were occasions when vanity has to take second place. I landed on the roof intending to meld through the stones but they refused me. Normally I would have punished them for their presumption but that could be done later. I kicked in a window and flew into the Bloody Chapel. Like all of the other ysbryd the slaughtered priest saying the mass was unusually bright but I swept past him to the little room with the trap door behind the alter. The stones were in no mood to tell me how the trap worked so I asked one of the host of hollow eyed ghosts milling around the area. _

_I sent rats squeaking and bones crunching as I dropped down into the oubliette narrowly missing the spike protruding up from the floor. The floor was buried under literally thousands of bones and there were at least two more recent rat chewed corpses in addition to the young man curled up on top of the grisly pile. Another foot worth of bones and he'd be able to climb out with them. I wondered if the sick bastards who owned this keep kept it that way just as an extra torment along with the peepholes that allowed the inmate to smell and hear the activity in the kitchen. An almost chimney like updraft carried away the unfortunate's cries so that no matter how loudly he called no one would hear him (or her since there were some women and at least one child among the hollow eyed ysbryd) but he would starve to the smell of food and the sound of others eating. A thin trickle of water ensured that the prisoner would starve instead of a slightly more merciful death by thirst. It was an ingenious set up in a profoundly twisted way but I didn't pause to admire it. I could smell the caddug approaching and while I had no fears for myself the poor soul at my feet was far too close to death's door to risk an encounter. Even as wasted as he was I couldn't fly us out of here. I gave him a good shake and brown eyes cracked open. _

_He moistened his lips "You came." If I had had dynol ears I never would have heard that fragile whisper. _

_I hoisted him to his feet but he slid right back down into the bones. He started weakly as if surprised to find himself still in this charnel house. _

_I propped him back up, rammed a rib bone into the wall (regardless of the wall's opinion of the matter), wrapped his fingers around it, and forced him to look me in the eye, "I need you to stay standing. Do. You. Understand?"_

_He didn't answer but he tightened his fingers around the bone with a single minded determination. Good enough. He slumped without my support but didn't fall as I easily vaulted out of the oubliette, grabbed his wrists, and yanked him out. He promptly fainted. He might be too heavy to fly with but he was certainly light enough to carry with relative ease. The only problem was given that he was physically several years older than I he was also several inches taller which made the entire situation a bit awkward. The caddug, of course, made its appearance at an inopportune moment when I was in the midst a somewhat dicey over the head maneuver that…(hmm I made a mental note that we needed to be properly introduced at some point in the relatively near future) probably wouldn't have liked but he wasn't awake to comment. Of course if he HAD been awake I wouldn't be stuck trying to figure out how to get him down three narrow flights of unforgiving stone stairs without rapping either his heels or skull (or both) against them. The caddug tried to glare at me which was actually somewhat amusing but I was too busy holding my breath to laugh. I sent a burst of flame at him. It tried to growl "mine" at me but sheep heads are really not designed to make threatening sounds. Caddugs feed on fear and misery and this one was more than glutted and obviously greedy for more. It could do nothing to me but the body across my shoulders shivered even though he was otherwise insensate at the mere approach of the smelly thing. He didn't have anything left to spare and I had no intention of letting the caddug drain him dry._

_"MINE" I roared back throwing the full force of the Draig behind it. The caddug tucked its curly tail and fled in terror. I wondered idly if it could feed off of its own fear. Wind informed me that most of the keep's inhabitants were following suit. Sometimes being in Ireland was actually useful since the cyfae were far more active here the populace was more inclined to clear the way. I hitched my 'cousin' into a more comfortable position and headed for the kitchens in search of broth and other provisions and then to the stable for some mounts._

_ I gave Jonathan Sperling a critical glance as he slept in the Azure Cabin aboard the Peregrine. He was still far too thin but the hollows between his ribs were beginning to fade. In troth I was more concerned for his mental state since there was certainly nothing physically wrong with him that good food and time wouldn't heal my own talents non-withstanding. He was doing an admirable job of pretending to be fine but the restless sleep and the disturbances in his enaid told a very different story. In this I was utterly out of my depth. I might be a master at healing the body but I was no mind healer, broken hearts and wounded souls were beyond my ken. I had known about and been able to pinpoint the Riggions for decades but I'd never actually come in personal contact with any of them before. Jonathan whimpered in his sleep and then began to beg._

_"Please. Please don't. I'll do anything you want, please, please let me out. Don't leave me here! Please, please, please, please, sweet Jesus, please."_

_"Jonathan" I barked at him. His brown eyes shot open but it clear he was mind was still in the oubliette. "Jonathan" I tried again more soothingly like I would to a skittish horse and he clung to me still not really aware._

_'Grine, what am I going to do with him?' I whispered mentally to my ship while I kept up a constant purr of soothing nonsense. 'He's like this every night. I can't just keep sailing in circles during the day. Even if he doesn't know northeast from southwest Ireland to London isn't exactly a long voyage.'_

_'Take him home'._

_'I can't.'_

_'Why ever not?'_

_'He's still broken' I snapped at the Peregrine 'I know you're just a boat' 'SHIP' 'and I know you haven't had much contact with the dynol but you can't possibly think this is normal.'_

_'You have a lot of nightmares too, Rhys.' I glanced down at the quivering bit of terrified flesh mewing into my chest._

_'Never like this.' I was reasonably certain of that but it was still nice to hear Grine confirm it. _

_'Well, no, never like THAT. Rhys, you didn't do this to him.'_

_'But how many did I do it to? I took what I wanted and never looked back.'_

_'Helping him isn't going to change any of that, Rhys.'_

_Jonathan was finally starting to relax back into a more normal sleep. The oubliette had shattered something deep inside that had nothing to do with mere flesh. My youth in the torture chambers had been anything but idyllic and I had the chilling suspicion that my grandsire had had more than just a practical education in mind for me but I was willing to wager everything I owned that **I** would never be driven to this. _

_'I know that, Grine' and I did. Not that I'd been much help in the fortnight we'd spent sailing in the Channel (the bloody Armada had made a quicker trip in their washtubs – of course they hadn't been sailing in circles because the Armada hadn't been CAPABLE of sailing in circles or even to windward. The Channel would have been a one way trip for it even if Bess's navy had consisted of row boats with sling shots.) But it wasn't just guilt, it wasn't even mostly guilt. I'd always known that the Riggion were blood-kin, the illegitimate bastards of diverse PenThalion princes, but the connections were generations old and more faded than any ghost. Except for the nose (Draigs what a beak!), round brown eyes, and the cleft chin our faces were essentially identical. Same forehead, cheek bones, and jaw-line, if I were to round my ears and eyes with Shadow and stand by Jonathan's side anyone seeing us would think me his (much more beautiful) younger brother. He was…kin. I sang softly to him luring him beyond the threshold of dreams so that he could get some real rest but I wasn't certain if I was helping or hindering his recovering. I vaguely recalled Argellion saying something about dreams being vital. 'Argellion I **need** you'. It was odd, I'd hung on Mannwan's every word but it always seemed like it was Argellion's wisdom that I missed most. It was clichéd but true – I'd never realized what a treasure Argellion's knowledge had been until it was beyond my reach. Though probably not for much longer given what had…happened with Gran my defod would undoubtedly be called within the next few years. I squelched the little flutter of fear/anticipation. I had other things to do than speculate about Avalon, except I wanted to see it and my instructors again. And I wanted to meet my family but Jonathan Sperling would just have to do for now I decided as I shut the door of the Azure Cabin quietly behind me._

_ I called down another command to Jonathan. It would have been far easier to just do this myself but the truth is Peregrine was too big for one man to handle alone there was no sense in making the sailors suspicious and I could hardly weave my compliment of Shadow sailors with Jonathan around and he was desperate to be useful anyway. _

_I had never made such a sloppy anchorage. Grine was no happier than I was about it but it given the 'help' it had taken both of us and the Winds' subtle assistance just to avoid ramming one of the other ships already at berth. I made a far slower descent to the deck than was my usual wont. Guilliam De La Marck was over sixty after all. _

_Upon reaching the deck I gave Jonathan a searching look. Physically he looked a hundred times better than the skeletal scarecrow I'd (belatedly) rescued. My healer's unique senses could still pick up traces of his ordeal in his muscles and bones but they were fading nicely on the diet I'd been feeding him. I still didn't like the instability I was seeing in his enaid but as hard as it was to admit nothing I had tried had helped (mind you it didn't seem to have HURT either but that was small consolation). I had never flatly failed before and I didn't like the feeling at all. If hearth and home didn't help my pulling him out of the oubliette was going to have been for naught because he was either going to loose his mind, drink himself into oblivion, or kill himself none of which was going to do the mother and sisters I'd been hearing about for the last two weeks much good. _

_"You will come home with me, won't you?" My agreement was nearly a matter of self preservation since the mere thought that I might not had set off such a fire-storm in his enaid that I was tempted to close my eyes. I'd never been 'sea-sick' in my life but just watching him was making me nauseous._

No sooner did Mallory have the thought then Elizabeth bolted to the window. I followed her, steadying her as she threw up into the sea below. Did Sea get angry about that? I certainly hoped not. A quick search turned up another blue handkerchief which I passed to Elizabeth.

"Maybe you should talk to Mallory, that can't be good for the baby."

I fought down a flicker of anger when she just smiled, "Will, morning sickness is perfectly normal and I've been very lucky to not have much at all" and reclaimed the book she'd dropped.

_I made a point to NOT walk the streets of London. It was much neater and tidier (if more tiring) to simply fly to my destinations than to wade through the filth (human and otherwise) that collected in the streets. I was all but tip-toeing and I was going to incinerate these boots later. (Thankfully they weren't one of my better pairs). And ye gods the STENCH, I'd forgotten the stench and failed to bring my nosegay. The further we'd gotten from the Peregrine the more I worried about Jonathan. He was trying so damn hard to pretend that nothing was wrong but I could clearly see **something** brewing in his enaid and he was all but stepping on my toes. I finally shouldered him into a tavern and tossed the bar keep a couple of coins as I guided him into one of the back rooms. The bar keep didn't even bat an eye but then he was used to the crusty old Dutch Captain disappearing into the back with a variety of people. Some of the rumors about what I did with them were down right hysterical. Jonathan's reaction was anything but as he started hyperventilating. It occurred to me that taking him into a dark room where you could hear and smell the tavern but not see it was either one of the most ill-advised things I'd ever done or brilliant. At the moment I was leaning toward ill-advised as Jonathan clung to me too incoherent to even beg. When Geoffrey Pole had been like this I'd considered it just recompense for what he'd done to his family and when he finally couldn't take it anymore and blew his brains out I'd been angry that he'd gotten off so easily. Now over fifty years too late I felt a bit of compassion. I shook off old memories – there was nothing in them that would help Jonathan. I forced his head up trying to get his attention focused on something other than the panic. He finally blinked at me in the dim light. No dynol could see in this darkness but Jonathan eyes in spite of the round pupils had a touch of the Ellyllon. _

_"Help me, Guilliam, please." At least he was coherent again._

_"You don't need me. Walk out into the light." There was nothing but terrified confusion for far too long. Just as I was about give up and haul him out he straightened. Finally, he realized this WASN'T the oubliette. He tossed his head, shoved out of the circle of my arms, and strode into the tavern. He wasn't well yet, not by a long road, but something in his enaid had settled a bit and for the first time in a week I had hope that his life wouldn't end with a self inflicted bullet or in a bottle. _

_"Really, Madam Sperling, I couldn't eat another bite" I protested as my trencher was refilled again. I'd sent Wind ahead when we made anchor so I was well aware of the dire financial trouble the Sperlings were in. I had purchased enough provisions for a week and paid the back rent while Jonathan protested the entire time. We finally settled on it being a loan. The truth was the only reason Jonathan's mother and sisters weren't already out on the street was the hope that Jonathan would return from Ireland with plundered wealth. Madam Sperling (who had had the poor taste to inflict that horrible nose on all three of her children) had apparently decided the proper way to express her gratitude was by feeding the entire week's worth of provisions to me right NOW. Jonathan's sisters had me boxed in and short of being unspeakably rude I was trapped and beginning to feel like an overstuffed tick. Speaking of vermin the place was absolutely crawling (or jumping) with fleas and lice. Forget the boots this entire outfit was going up in smoke. I wanted out of this little hovel, family (distant, very, very, **VERY **distant family) or not. Just as I was about to do something drastic a little dark head popped up from under the table._

_Jonathan glanced at the toddler in utter confusion. From the way the elder sister (Brenna? Yes, Brenna, the raven, was the dark haired one while Miri, the blond, was the lark. I wondered briefly why Jonathan wasn't named for a bird in El'lan like the rest of the family.) flushed I knew the toddler blinking up at me with the biggest brown eyes I'd ever seen was a bastard. It was difficult to tell at this age but she might have been spared the family beak. I might even have rival when she grew up especially if she kept the big doe eyes. _

_"Jonathan this is Gadeal"_

_Oh, that was just – tacky? Wretched? And definitely uncalled for. They had named the poor thing unwanted in El'lan. My opinion of Madam Drudwy Sperling plummeted (not that it had been all that terribly high. While her cooking was passable she had absolutely NO concept of fashion or style). How much could one expect from a woman named starling anyway? Nasty, noisy birds. I like my sparrows much better. She squirmed away from her both her mother, uncle, and grandmother and with a dignity far beyond her years settled in my lap as if it were her throne, snuggling back against me with a contented sigh and plunking her forefinger in her mouth. Drudwy looked absolutely mortified but when she tried to scoop the child up she demonstrated what healthy lungs she had. Not one bit of congestion in those. She had no future as a singer though. _

_"Let her stay." I commanded. Drudwy didn't look terribly happy unlike the triumphant young lady in my lap whose enaid contained a plethora of colors that now shifted from a red/yellow to purple/pink predominance. Wild color swings were common in the very young and at the moment she reminded me of nothing so much as a summer sunrise on a clear day. She fell asleep with a little contented sigh. So much for my daring escape. I resigned myself to spending a bit longer in the Sperling family hovel. I was certainly capable of a wide selection of flea-banes and set about clearing the hovel of vermin beginning with the child in my lap. _

_"Brenna, who is the father?"_

_She just stared at the table wringing her hands. An all female household left without a provider. There were very few ways for women to earn a living and at some point during Jonathan's five year absence while he was trying to win his fortune Brenna had turned to the oldest profession. That sort of thing left a mark on a woman's enaid. Not necessarily a stain as the Christians would say but a mark nevertheless. Nothing colored an enaid like sex which made the choice of partners far more important than the dynol realized. _

_"I want to know who dishonored my sister" he growled._

_She couldn't tell him because she didn't know I could see it in her face and her enaid which had gone a sickly grey._

_"She dishonored herself" Drudwy snapped._

_"Bren?" Jonathan asked eyes widening as he suddenly realized the truth._

_"They were going to put us in debtors' prison, Jon, so I, I" she just sort of collapsed on herself. I was torn between pretending I wasn't there in a vain attempt to give them the illusion of privacy and being in all honesty terribly curious as to how Jonathan was going to react to this particular revelation. It was abundantly clear that both Brenna and Gadeal were less than welcome in Drudwy Sperling's home in spite of the fact that Brenna's sacrifice was likely the only reason they still had it. _

_"Oh, Bren", apparently Jonathan was more compassionate (or a few weeks in an oubliette had made him more forgiving) than his mother, and he gathered her up and rocked her as she wept with Drudwy looking on with something that wasn't quite censure but was anything but happy. The trencher was snatched from in front of me- good. Miri and I were both busy studying the wood grain of the table. Once upon a time it had been a fine piece of furniture. I let my eyes wander the room noting several other pieces that in their day would have been far too rich for this home. Clearly at some point the family had fallen from a somewhat higher social status. _

_"I'm home now, Bren. You won't ever have to do that again. I'll take care of everything."_

_Now there was a bold promise from a young man without 2 pence to rub together and no real skills. I'd been pondering that while listening to the Wind and I had an idea._

_"Miri, would you pass me my satchel?"_

_Jonathan shot a quick questioning glance at me as I tried to fish quill, ink, salt, paper, sealing wax, and signet out without disturbing the slumbering toddler in my lap. I'd learned long ago that it's always best to let sleeping babies lie._

_They watched me as if I was performing some arcane ritual magic instead of merely writing a letter. Troth they had probably never seen a letter written. Since I spent the lion's share of my time amongst the best educated people on the continent I tended to forget just how few people could read or write. I had met William Shakespeare twice since we were both occasionally at court but he was of no particular use to my plans so I had largely ignored him. I had heard on the Wind that he was looking for a few more hands at the Globe. The pay was a mere pittance as I reckoned things but it should be enough to keep food in their mouths and a roof over their heads if they were careful._

_I sealed the letter of recommendation, pressed the signet into the wax, and passed it to Jonathan. _

_"Take this to the Globe first thing in the morning and ask to speak to"_

_"My Jonathan in a theater?" the squawking starling made it sound like I'd just suggested that he should join the ranks of the ladies-of-the-night. _

_"Master Shakespeare performs for the Queen herself. The Globe is no bawdy house."_

_"No honor in it either, not like soldiering."_

_"So you would prefer your son to die far from home for a cause not his own than to work in a less 'honorable' endeavor?" I had been around soldiers and great lords all of my life. I had heard a great deal about honor but had seen little when it truly mattered. I couldn't deny a handful led by Mannwan had had it but it was a rarer commodity than any precious metal. "Barely recovered and not even three hours under your roof and you would fain send him into fresh peril than have him at your side." I let my eyes bleed contempt "God spare me the love of such a mother."_

_Jonathan's back went poker straight "I will always be grateful for my life but no one speaks to my mother in that manner. Please leave."_

_Who did the young fool think I was trying to help? If he was so eager to die then good riddance. I passed the sleeping child to her mother and shook the dust of the house from my feet. Ungrateful wretches. Damn them and Henri. Given that my boots were already past saving I decided to walk for a bit. _

_I turned and searched the street unable to shake the feeling that I was being watched._

_"'Lo Governer." The whore smiled up at me hopefully revealing her four remaining teeth. Well, Brenna had barely had to walk out the door to join ranks of 'working women' and given the competition that nose should have been no impediment to turning a brisk trade. "Fancy a bit of fun?" _

_Not even if you were the one paying me was my thought "You're far too faire a flower for this old man" I said giving her a bow and palming her a pence. I nearly trod on little fingers as I backed away. I scooped the child up by the back of her dress and held her at arm's length. _

_"What a mess you've made of yourself, young Miss. Just what you did you think you were doing?"_

_Big brown doe eyes blinked at me "Mine" she lisped very solemnly while pointing at me. Ah, we were in the possessive pronoun stage. _

_"Says who?"_

_"Mine" repeated much more petulantly and with a hint of a pout. I should take her home. The last child who had latched onto me this fiercely had been Sandro and look at what that had gotten him – chased by a mardeth, mistrusted and reviled by his family, and finally dead in my stead. But as I turned to take her back I listened to bits of the fight at the Sperlings' that were swirling on the Wind. _

_"It's going to be a while before anyone misses you so I guess I might as well clean you up first." She was on the heavy side for me to carry but it was only a short flight back to the Peregrine. I striped the dress off of her, rolled it up inside out with as much of the slops off the street on the inside as possible, and tucked her up tight against me for the flight. _

_"NO!" she protested when we landed "UP! UP!" _

_'Rhys what is that and where did you get it?' Peregrine's voice had a decided edge to it 'What is it with you and the strays recently? And would you please take it back to wherever you found it?'_

_'**It** is a girl. She followed me home.' Just my luck I finally reach the age when having a female follow me might actually lead to something and my stalker is a toddler. 'And I'll take her back to her mother shortly.'_

_"Up?" probably not yet two and she already batted her eyes. Those big brown doe eyes were going to be very dangerous to someone someday. _

_"Down" I replied as I carried her into the galley. That earned me a deep, longsuffering sigh. She was cute, manipulative as hell, but cute all the same._

_I quickly washed her in one of the less breakable (and less valuable) basins and handed her something sweet. My sparrows who had found their way to the Peregrine while I was away and were fluttering around us hopefully so I fed them some seed. From the looks I received they would have preferred some sweets too. _

_'I've heard that if you feed them they keep coming back' Peregrine didn't sound terribly happy._

_Sea was regarding us curiously 'What is it?' The child was just as intrigued. I maneuvered a little closer to the tyke. Sea wouldn't hurt her on purpose but that didn't mean She wouldn't kill her accidentally either. Sea flowed across the cabin. The sparrows wisely flitted out of her way._

_'Is it yours?' _

_How should I answer that? The child was most definitely NOT mine (nor was I hers) but something about the way Sea regarded her made me uneasy. The girl stretched out a crumby little finger to brush Sea's liquid surface._

_'Yes.' I nearly shouted not liking Sea's reaction._

_'What is its name?'_

_That was an unpleasant surprise. Generally Sea accepted that certain people were under my 'protection' but never before had She actually expressed an interest in them beyond annoyance that they kept me from Her. Sea didn't speak a language as such and if I called the child Gadeal Sea would 'hear' it as unwanted and there was no question in my mind that that would be a…tactical error. So what do I call her? A bird name since that seemed to be family tradition. One particularly bold sparrow was stealing the tyke's treat while she fixated on Sea. Sparrow? No, it didn't fit her. It should be similar to Gadeal so as not to confuse her but there weren't really any birds that sounded like Gadeal. Gwylan the gull? It would flatter Sea (mayhap) but to the English ear it sounded like a boy's name. Knock off the n? _

_"Gwyla"_

_Sea was aware of sea gulls in a vague way 'A bird of Wind and Sea.'_

_'That roosts on Earth' I noted quickly lest Sea claim her._

_'It is a chick then?'_

_'She is. I need to return her to her nest.' I would clean the dress elsewhere. For the first time in my life I all but fled from Sea with Gwyla._

_ I crept quietly back into the Sperling hovel and set Gwyla back in her too small cradle. How under the Sun the Sperlings had failed to noticed she'd slipped away was beyond me. Jonathan whimpered in his sleep. Out of habit I started toward him before turning and leaving. The Sperlings were no longer my concern. I had played the Good Samaritan and been (as usual) rebuffed for my trouble. His shattered psyche was no longer my problem but I listened to the Winds' reports anyway as I flew back to the Peregrine and once there lit a candle to fire gaze. _

_ He woke screaming as he had every night since I rescued him but at least this time he wasn't hysterical afterward, shaken and trembling but not completely unmanned. While the starling set about brewing some chamomile tea Brenna gradually coaxed the full story from her younger brother. Apparently at not quite fifteen Jonathan had signed up as one of the multitude of young adventures who had answered Essex's call to serve under Hawkyns and Drake in the ill-fated 1595 escapade that had been led by Bledri since I had flatly refused to command it just as I had rejected every other naval commission for Bess since her diatribe against me after the Armada. Ungrateful knave. _

_It had been that voyage that had driven me to 'kill' Drake. I had gone so far as to have Bledri sealed alive in a lead coffin and dumped over the side. I had left him there until he was only a few breaths short death then stripped him naked and left him in the jungles of Panama. Given that like Jonathan he couldn't tell northeast from southwest he was probably still wandering in circles. I had most certainly warned him that the consequences for sailing again as Drake would be harsh. I suspected that the pathetic sot was hoping I would kill him. I wasn't that merciful. _

_ I had known that there had been a Riggion among the men I had commanded at Cadiz as Charles Howard but I'd been too concerned with keeping Essex in line and getting Sandro to convey my message to Pustule to care. Apparently it had been Jonathan. He had remained in Essex's service and ended up in the Irish campaign but he had gotten separated from his troop and utterly lost at the flight of Avonmore on May 28th. Most of the panicked English forces had ended up a Wicklow on the coast. Jonathan with his seriously confused internal compass had ended up in the heart of Erin. Starving and lost he had sought help at the keep of Leim ui Bhanain where he had been cast into the oubliette for the crime of being English. Once the words started they rushed out in a torrent, the filth, the disease, the futility, the horrors, and the death, by the end the Starling was rocking him gently. _

_"Mama's sorry, so sorry, you take that letter to Master Shakespeare tomorrow."_

_I had no doubt that this wasn't the last time nightmares would trouble Jonathan Sperling's sleep but his shattered enaid was beginning to knit. Not well but no longer in grave danger either. I blew out the candle and went to my cabin with a lighter heart than I had in years._

_ I had had no idea that the Peregrine could purr but that was the only term I could use for it as I put the finishing touches on the most thorough overhaul I'd ever given him. I'd decided to put off my reunion with Bess until she finished her progress and returned to London in hopes that she would be too tired to be truly nasty. That had given me a week in port with relatively little to do and I had taken Peregrine largely for granted ever since Jane's death over forty-five years ago. He was long overdue for some serious loving care and he was soaking it up like a sponge. _

_I had had to discretely return Gwyla (since to the best of my knowledge I was still not welcome at the Sperlings) twice but aside from that things were going splendidly for Jonathan and his family.. Not that it was technically any of my business but he had finally slept through the night last night. I_

_"Gil!" I glanced up 'Don't _**STOP**_' Peregrine whined._

_"Jacob?" What was Jacob van Neck doing in the Thames?_

_"I heard you had turned up again you scurvy pirate." Couldn't really argue with that. Like Drake, de la Marck was a 'gentleman pirate' with just enough luck and patriotic flair to be marginally acceptable at court. I'd even been admiral of the Dutch fleet briefly at Den Brille. If it hadn't been for the 'atrocities of Gorinchem' I might have actually ended up in charge of the rebellion instead of Orange after all de la Marck had been a Count before I killed him and took his place. In retrospect murdering the inquisitors hadn't been politically wise but I'd certainly never lost any sleep over it. Nor over the letters of mark I'd issued in spite of Orange's orders. He'd actually ordered me out of the Netherlands (apparently I'd been a bit…overzealous for his taste). Ungrateful wretch. Ungrateful dead wretch, I still felt a little guilty that he'd been assassinated on my watch but plots against both he and Bess had been launched almost simultaneously and for all my abilities I couldn't be in two places at once. I'd made a choice and chosen Bess. Given that the slaughter of the inquisitor monks had already ruined de la Marck's reputation many of my more…ethically questionable activities took place in his name which meant honorable captains like Jacob van Neck shouldn't sound half that happy to see de la Marck. "Permission to come aboard?"_

_'Grine sighed as I rose and went to the rail. I had been enjoying a break from Nimrais and Angnar's perpetual fighting but suddenly wished I was armed with more than a mop and a table knife (not that I couldn't be perfectly lethal when completely unarmed but I was a dagger man through and through and Risnca was below deck) "Captain van Neck, to what do I owe this pleasure?"_

_Jacob paused "Skuttlebutt is that you have Drake's charts."_

_I was dangerously short of information. Between my spending nine months in various states of unconsciousness and four months focused on events in Ireland I was more out of touch with what was happening on the Continent than I had been in over forty years. Why Jacob wanted Drake's charts was obvious. The Portuguese had had a strangle hold on the lucrative spice trade of generations (dynol ones anyway). With both the Spanish and Portuguese navies sorely weakened by Philip's repeated losses in the four Armadas he had tried to launch both the Dutch and the English would be eager to exploit their opportunity to break Portugal's monopoly. My circumnavigation remained the only financially successful incursion into the Spice Islands (and had left me with an abiding loathing of cloves). Anyone attempting to repeat it would be willing to kill for those charts and logs. Did I want to give a copy to Captain Jacob van Neck? Bess would consider it treason (at best). _

_"You should know better than to trust rumors. If I had Drake's charts don't you think I'd be using them?"_

_Captain van Neck nodded sagely "Of course you would. Sorry to have bothered you."_

_He didn't believe me. Damn. The last thing I wanted was a fight aboard Peregrine but running rankled too. I formed a plan as I watched him row away. I prepared to cast off with my Shadow sailors. Once I was out of the harbor I sent a Shadow of Peregrine sailing out into the Channel while I wrapped the Shadow of the Swallow around Peregrine and sailed him to a new mooring. Hopefully that would be enough to send Captain van Neck and his men to sniffing elsewhere. _

_ Nonsuch always made me think of the Mouldwarp which is why I disliked it (and why Bess did). Henry the VIII's great palace built from the blood and sweat of the Catholic Church. I hadn't had a personal grudge with the Catholics back then when I had been one of Cromwell's bully boys evicting the monks and nuns from the newly confiscated religious houses. I had to snicker. I had been all of four. It had been utterly absurd of Cromwell to send me out to intimidate grown men and yet I had done it. And with that appropriated wealth the Mouldwarp had built one of the finest palaces in Europe. _

_ I nearly froze when I felt eyes on my back. I whirled, wrapped in Shadow no one should be able to see me and stared into the startled eyes of one of the sweeper women. Ah, Aine, what was she doing in Nonsuch instead of Whitehall? Not that it mattered if she told what she Saw she would either be burned as a witch or confined as a lunatic. I swept past her on my way to the Privy Chamber. I had already heard from Wind that there were only a handful of men around Bess all of them of the Cecil faction. Good, I didn't feel like listening to Essex's cronies anyway. Bess gave a small gasp when she saw me and promptly swooned. Only a quick move by the hunchback Robert Cecil saved her from tipping completely backward but her skirts spilled something across the floor, something with cloves in it. I could feel my throat starting to close up. Using my Healing skills I forced it back open until Howard pulled out some sort of cloves heavy smelling salts. I fought to stay on my feet. Distantly I heard the calls going up for a doctor as spots danced before my eyes. Bess must have roused and seeing me on my knees screeched for someone to clean up the mess and ordered a very confused Howard and his smelling herbs from the room. The strangle hold on my throat eased a little as Howard left and Bess ordered the door left open. I summoned Wind to freshen the air in the room and rose eyes streaming. Bloody Spice Islands. I had always known that cloves bothered me but after sailing for a month with seven tons of it in the hold of the Hind it seemed the least contact was enough to strangle. But it had never been this bad before. Damn Bess and her insistence that I should not only bring back Spanish gold and silver but oriental spices (I'd never told her about all the silk I brought back. It was MINE.) as well. At a sign from her I cast a Shadow of her while she waved me into her bed chamber and I drew my first truly clear breath since entering the Privy Chamber. I lost it again when I saw what she had in her hands. My cetera. The white draig seemed to glare at me reproachfully. I had left it with Henri, just the thought of him was like a knife up under the ribs (or in the back depending on how you looked at it). How had it ended up with Bess?_

_"Navarre sent me this to remember thee by."_

_Ungrateful son of a bitch (and she had been. I'd liked her. She had had poor taste in men but the Queen of Navarre had been tough as nails and every inch a bitch). Part of me had hoped his reaction had simply been panic and that on further reflect…who was I trying to fool? I was a monster, at least in Henri's eyes, and perhaps in troth as well. _

_"The letter he sent with it said you were poisoned betraying me to Philip. And that this was to remind me that a fair mien can hide the blackest heart."_

_Damn him. Do you hate me this much Henri? Bess was never to know that I was the one who had negotiated the current peace between France and Spain. Bess had demanded that no peace should be brokered between France and Spain that did not include England. But Bess had no intention of ever treating with Spain and would have crushed any incipient peace before it ever had a chance. So I had done it without her knowledge. I considered lying but to hell with all of it._

_"Henri wanted peace with Spain. I arranged it and got a trio of poisoned arrows in the chest for my trouble."_

_She just stared at me for a long time. Bess quite was far more to be feared than Bess raving. _

_"Where hast thou been for the last year?"_

_"Mostly insensible and convalescing." _

_She arched what was left of her brows under the pound and a half of cosmetics she was wearing. It was ironic. I was thoroughly sick of being young and Bess was terrified of being old. _

_"What about thy prestigious healing talents?"_

_"Pushed to their uttermost and nigh to beyond." _

_The cetera slipped onto the bed and to my surprise she gathered me to her breast. "I forgive thee, I forgive thee." She murmured as she clung to me. I was torn between being touched by her concern and enraged by her presumption. I had done NOTHING to merit the need for forgiveness. She was forever confusing our stations. It was _**I,**_ not she, who was lord of these lands. Neither she nor Henri would have their lives much less their crowns without me. It was not them that Wind, Sea, and Earth acknowledged as a Prince with every step. I was _**NOT**_ their subject they were _**MINE.**_ The anger at the sheer presumption that I needed her forgiveness for doing as I pleased in my own lands warred with something that was far too damn glad that someone breathing cared whether I lived or died. _

_Bess leaned back and tried to hand me the cetera "Play it for **me**, like you used to play it for him."_

_The avaricious light in her eyes made my stomach roil. She was so damn pleased to have me back as exclusively hers. So triumphant that my friendship with Henri was shattered beyond repair so that I would no longer have to divide my time between them. Why the hell had I let both of them use me for so long? _

_"I'll burn it to ash before I play it again before I play ANYTHING ever again" I all but snarled. Rhys could you do this, Rhys would you do that, Rhys go to Russia. _

_"Dost thou have any idea what an instrument this fine is worth?" she snapped back. _

_Trust Bess to make everything about money. Russia originally had been about money too. Bess was bound and determined that there was a Northern passage to the Orient. It didn't matter that the guy who could actually **TALK TO THE DAMN OCEAN **said there wasn't, at least not one that wasn't frozen solid and while I could probably melt the damn arctic ice caps I didn't think even I would be able to control the resulting floods. Somehow I doubted Bess would appreciate every port city including London drowning in a massive global flood. Bess had badgered me until, despite the fact that I knew negotiations with Russia were futile, I had gone anyway. And ended up with a whole new selection of nightmares and a dread of the East Wind. I'd land in Alexandrova Sloboda on the dregs of my strength after a couple of days of marathon flights nearly shaking from exhaustion (not that I'd ever admit it) only to come face to face with Alexandrova Sloboda's ghosts. Scores upon scores of them. They were their own damn army. At least twenty new recruits a day courtesy of Ivan Grozny's madness. Peasants and noblemen alike tortured to death in a reign of terror that slaughtered countless innocents but the czar was obsessed with the fact that he had enemies and with a burning desire to destroy them. _

_Ivan was strange, he rarely did his own killing yet he delighted in watching torture to the point that he made Skeffington seem a mild, gentle soul. And I would never be able to hear the word "Goida!" again without shivering. They competed to see who could keep the victims alive the longest, who could kill the most in single day, who could drench the czar in the most blood. Russia taught me that there is nothing more dangerous than a mad man with unlimited power and an utter conviction that he was right. And no one more skilled at generating terror than a man who is himself terrified and Ivan was afraid of his own shadow. Letting Ivan live had been like watching cancer grow. But he was pro-Elizabeth and Elizabeth had wanted him not because she actually expected military assistance (the one bright moment in the whole thing had been the surprise arrival of the Russian embassy that it had simply, slipped my mind, to warn her about. My experiences in Russia might have been miserable but Bess's sputtering when the Russians arrived had been PRICELESS.) but Russia was a shadowy menace on the border of the known world. Close enough to be a real threat and unknown enough to be a true wildcard that Bess wanted to hold but never play. So for years I had smiled and stepped over the bodies all for Bess's sake until the healer in me finally snapped. I don't often think of myself as 'the healer' or 'the assassin'. It was my instructors who tended to talk about me as if I were really a half-dozen different people each one defined by one of my abilities as if one soul simply couldn't balance them all. I just thought of me as me but Ivan had very clearly been destroyed not by the killer in me but the healer._

_I could feel Bess getting angry at me as I let the silence stretch too long even for her. I just glared back. Bess had known about Ivan's reign of terror but hadn't cared. Just as she had encouraged John Hawkyns' trade in human flesh. Bess's ability to focus exclusively on what was good for England and to ignore all other suffering was part of what made her such a magificent Queen. She said she loved her subjects and she did which was more than you could say for that piece of excrement Pustule but she had very little mercy left for anyone else but then safe in the womb of England she had never come face to face with the results of some of her more questionable policies either._

_"Dost thou!"_

_Given that I had tracked down the exact amount merely so I could yell at Henri for it "Yes, I do." _

_Always about money. Rhys how am I going to pay for this? Rhys could you capture a treasure fleet? Rhys could you make me more diamonds? Or pearls? Or rubies? Rhys could you find me new trade routes? Rhys could you steal this? Damn farthing pinching wench. _

_"And I don't care what you do with it so long as I never have to touch it again." Gabriel would you play for me? Gabriel would you sing for me? Gabriel she's so lovely won't you help me woo her? Gabriel 'I'll only be a moment'. I might be a bloody elf but at least I wasn't ruled by my dangly bits. Damn satyr. Oh, wait, they have thrice benighted pointy ears like mine. Ungrateful bastard._

_I could see the anger building in Bess's eyes and enaid but I had no intention of backing down, not today, maybe not ever again. No more favors for people who never appreciated them. Like Gran, like Henri, like Bess, like Jonathan. My ears flicked forward as Essex and Tyrone's voices drifted in on the Wind from Ireland. Blood traitorous little twit. I whirled intent on flying back Ireland and dealing with Essex once and for all and to hell with Bess's opinion but she caught my hand._

_I glanced back into anxious eyes as I shook her off. _

_"Rhys where art thou going?" she demanded with her eyes narrowed in suspicion._

_"Essex is betraying you to the Irish" I spat "I'm going to deal with the traitor." How dare she believe Henri after the dozens of assassination attempts I thwarted some a risk of my own life for her! In blood and anguish I had earned the right to at least her loyalty if not her gratitude. But wait I have POINTY EARS so all bets are off. As I turned to go I was tackled from behind. Our momentum carried us forward back into the Privy Chamber and nearly into Richard Cecil. I twisted so we stopped just short of the table. The Wind might disguise our voices and Shadow our form but neither would hold if we ploughed into the table. I rolled easily breaking her grip and blinked up at her in astonishment._

_"What the bloody hell are you doing woman?"_

_"Thou art NOT going to Ireland. Not ever again. We forbid it!" I ignored the worry in her eyes in my fury. _

_"FORBID! Who the bloody hell do you think you are to forbid me?" I roared back loudly enough that the members of the Privy Council glanced about in confusion when Wind failed to mask it completely. _

_"Thou swore to me that thee would leave Ireland and the Devereuxes to me after Rathlin. I will hold thee to thy word, sir."_

_"I made no such promise and you do not have nor ever have nor ever will have the right to command me."_

_"We are the Queen of England."_

_"You nothing and are no one with out my support and indulgence. Your authority is based on naught but air. You are a usurper that I could throw down an I chose to." _

_"I hold my throne by Divine Right. Christ alone has authority over me and my House is as high as thine."_

_The silly git had not a CLUE what I could do to her. The farthingale and skirts larger than Peregrine's main sail made it tough to roll us but I was up to the challenge in spite of Bess's fight to stay on top. It occurred to me that while it might be possible to fence and dance in court garb it wasn't well suited to wrestling. I caught her flailing hands. _

_"Your House is less than nothing. Your father was a fat fool and your mother a squealing coward."_

_The entire situation was absolutely ludicrous. Just as I started to smile down at Bess and apologize she rudely planted a knee in my cod and followed it with a solid left to my mouth while I was busy remembering to breath. I licked the trickling blood from my lips. I'd made those damn rings for her and she dared to hit me with them? _

_Bess shrieked like a banshee and made a grab for my hair but I backhanded her and ended up with my hand coated a quarter inch deep in white lead face paint. She ran trembling fingers over the trough I'd left in her cosmetics. It had been over forty years since someone had dared to strike her. She would have been dead dozens of times over if I hadn't stood between her and danger for over two-thirds of our lives how DARE she raise a hand to me! I could taste the Draig rising. Traitorous bitch. I wrapped my fingers around Risnca, Angnar had wanted to taste Bess for a long time. I coughed, eyes watering. Cloves. The sweeper was sloshing her bucket. What the hell was I doing? I wheeled and fled Nonsuch. _

_ I entered the Treasury still fuming. How DARE she? Thankless, ungrateful, self-centered. It wasn't hard to find all the charts I'd drawn for Bess through the years. She had been planning on founding colonies and trade routes with them. I'd be damned if she would gain another fathering from my labors. I'd hit her where it hurt most – her bloody purse. Already my knowledge of the Sea had done too much harm. Damn her and double damn Hawkyns. I would never forget that day in the Privy Chamber when Bess had shown her true colors. Hawkyns sold them all on it, everyone but me, on the promise of wealth. Cecil was practically salivating, Lord Admiral Clinton looked like he'd like to have some of the 'merchandise' for his personal pleasure, the Earl of Pembroke was calculating his share before the venture was even launched, Eyes, newly made the Earl of Leicester was watching me. Hawkyns' enaid showed pure triumph. The four most powerful men in England agreed with him. The only descenting voice in the Privy Chamber belonged to a mere pirate. Who was Thomas Cobham but a minor lordling who pillaged Spanish, French, and Dutch shipping? Flames crackled and edges curled as spy reports, charts, and detailed logs went up in smoke. But Bess and Eyes knew that it was Draco who spoke. I remembered as page after page went to ash…_

_ Absolute silence in the Privy Chamber as all eyes turned to the Queen._

_"We have heard many arguments both fore and against the proposal to take Africans from their native land by force and to sell them into perpetual bondage to the Spanish colonies in the New World. It can not be denied that to kidnap a good Christian from his home and family and sell him is an act of basest villainy these Africans be NOT Christians and so by our actions we may, in troth, be saving their immortal souls."_

_It was absolutely amazing how malleable a noble's honor and integrity could be when measured against gold. I was no one's whore – I wasn't for sale, not now, not ever which was more than I could say for 'The Virgin Queen'. You didn't have to spread your legs to be a harlot._

_"But your Majesty" I began._

_"We do not need a lesson in morality from a sea captain that did to order the entire crew of a vessel sewn up in the weighted main sail and cast overboard to drown in the depths."_

_They had been transporting 40 men, women, and children, some of them my allies, from the Low Countries to Spain for 'further inquest and execution in Spain'. Hell be damned if I would leave another ally to the Inquisition or if having an Inquisitor in my grasp if he would leave my presence alive. Drowning the crew as well might have been slightly excessive but there is such a thing as guilt by association._

_"Perhaps your Majesty should consider that if a man capable of such an act finds what has been proposed in this room the absolute BASEST of villainy then it is, indeed, a thing from which nobler souls should shrink in abject horror."_

_Bess looked down her nose at me from the throne. "Captain Hawkyns We do grant you the use of Our Own vessel, the Jesus of Lubeck for your use in this endeavor and do pray for every blessing upon this Our joint undertaking. We do extort thee to serve God daily, love one another, preserve thy victuals, beware of fire, and keep good company and We shall expect Our sixth part of the profits upon thy return."_

_With those words Bess turned the whole of English history and doomed both the Africans and the Indians. The Indians had already barely survived the onslaught of European diseases now they would have to face a second and now that a new source of labor would be readily available there would be no profit in letting the Indians live. It would be a slaughter but I had other matters to attend to which did not include Guiana or the Caribbean on their heads be it._

_My thoughts snapped back to the present as my fingers lighted on a string of pearls that were not of my own making. _

_I let them slip around my hands and wondered how many men had died for them. Pearl diving was a waster of lives. The divers drowned or were taken by sharks by the dozens and nearly all of them were slaves. I was torn between smashing them and granting them the reverence the blood paid for them had earned. I chose to pocket them until such a time that I could find someone worthy of them. I turned to other gifts burning with Fire and smashing with Wind and Earth my way through her precious wardrobe and treasury. Thousands of dresses many bought by the blood of those locked in bondage. She didn't hear, would never hear, the whispers from the deep as the skeletons often still bound in their chains wept for their lost homes and families. Didn't hear the lamentations rising like a whirlwind from two continents. She could have stopped it that day, could have claimed the moral high ground she professed to be so fond of, instead she'd begun a trade that was now so tangled I had no idea when it would end or even **IF** it would ever end. I hated it. By the Draigs, the Sea, and the Christian God I HATED slavery. Let her look down her nose at me for being a murderer and a thief. It was naught but hypocrisy. What could be worse than to deny a man his hope and his freedom so that even his body was no longer his own? Just like the __Gorchymyn except the Gorchymyn was even worse, the Gorchymyn makes one's own body a prison. She had tried so hard to get me to join in the trade since with my healer's talents more of the merchandise would survive the voyage and in better condition. I had utterly refused to have aught to do with that detestable trade and I had betrayed their plans to the Portuguese and the Spanish in hopes that they could see to their own affairs but it had been too little too late. There was such a thing as guilt by association and while it wasn't as heavy as the Africans' bondage it was weighty indeed. _

Elizabeth flinched beside me jerking us both out of the book. My hatred of pirates was a pale shadow to Mallory's loathing both of the Inquisition and of slavery. I had never really understood the phrase 'burning hatred' until now.

She licked her lips "Jack loves freedom more than anything."

I'd thought he loved the Pearl more than anything.

"That's what the Pearl is for him. Was he always like that or did he learn it from Mallory? And how horrid to take a being that in love with liberty and lock him in a cage for decades."

I, personally, was so busy being stunned that Mallory considered himself culpable for slavery I'd completely missed that. We both turned back to the book…

_ I was only warming up when a voice on the Wind pulled my attention elsewhere._

_"Please I've given you all I have." Jonathan Sperling – yet another ungrateful git. To hell with him._

_"But you're still good for a little sport." I didn't owe Sperling a damn thing. People were robbed every day in London and it wasn't my concern. I was sick of being used and thrown away. He whimpered when they hit him. I was back in the air before I even really thought about it. London was a warren of narrow twisted streets and it took me several minutes to track them even from the air. Several minutes too long. They had had their fun and gone. For all I knew he had been dead before Wind ever found me – it would hardly be the first time._

_I landed softly in the stinking alley knowing I was already too late. I rolled the body onto his back out of the pile of offal they had left him in. It wasn't fair. I chuckled bitterly. There was no such thing as fair. Never had been never would be. I closed his pain filled eyes and sighed at the futility of it all. He had been putting his life back together. I had thought he was going to make it. _

_"Fate just didn't like you did she?" I asked the body not expecting an answer. Murdered for the handful of pence he'd earned at the Globe Theater._

_"You came." True ysbryd this time. I could tell the difference now. "I know I haven't got the right to ask you for anything but would you watch over them for me? Please." The ghost dropped onto his knees. I'd never seen a ysbryd that was this aware but then he had to have been hoping I would come, maybe convincing me had been the focus of his last few moments. _

_"Jonathan" I started but he flung himself at my feet._

_"Please. I know you have a life of your own" _

_Did I anymore? I wasn't returning to Avalon tomorrow and be damned if Gran, Bess, or Henri would get another thing from me. And Sandro was dead. That hurt more than I would have ever expected it to. I never would have asked that sacrifice of you Sandro. What was it Sandro saw in me worth dying for? _

_"But if you could just. I don't know. Look in on them. You seem to be well off…" What the hell I wasn't doing anything else. I reached out one hand to Jonathan's physical body and another to his ysbryd. Usually I was exactingly careful when I did this to maintain a separation between the persona I was assuming and the 'real' me beneath but this time I threw caution to the winds letting 'Jonathan' sink into places no other psyche had ever come near. A Shadow of De le Merck's face and form wrapped around Jonathan's abandoned body as I stepped away._

_Faint frantic calls of 'Rhys' came from somewhere but there was only Jonathan and he shrugged them off as part of his imagination. _

_I walked the familiar streets of London breathing deeply the comforting scent of home. I stopped to barter for provisions along the way. For an instant I was confused – how had so much money gotten into my purse? I wasn't a thief so it must be mine. I bought a few small things for mother, Brenna, Miri, and Gadael no, **Gwyla.** Gwyla? Why was I thinking of Brenna's little bastard as Gwyla? I tried out the name as I walked the rest of the way home. I liked it better but I doubted Mum would._

_"Ye're late" Mum snapped "Yer supper is long cold." _

_I ducked my head. Her voice was angry but her eyes were worried. _

_"I stopped to get a few things." _

_"Jonathan" Brenna breathed "we can't possibly afford anything this fine." I glanced down at the cheap little bobbles on the table. Cheap! I blinked at them in shock. These were worth more than a week's pay. They were finer than anything else in the house, finer than anything any of us had ever owned. I must have spent too much time with Captain De la Marck. _

_"I made a bit more than I though I would. The rent's paid and we've food in the pantry. I thought my sassy sparrows deserved something as lovely as they. Life is far too brief not to live it."_

_Brenna looked at me like I'd been nipping at Mum's secret stash._

_Miri chirped with delight and then threw herself on me. "It's good to have you home."_

_'Home' I thought 'I've never been **home** before'. I shook myself a little what was I thinking? With the exception of the last five brutal years I lived here my whole life. I was born in this room. 'Home isn't about a place. It's about people' something deep inside whispered as Brenna hugged me and Mum fussed with my dinner._

_"Ye et all o that, not nearly enough meat back on yer bones yet." She brushed a gentle kiss across the crown of my head and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "My brave boy." _

_Gwyla crawled up in my lap "Mine" she said with all the gravity a two year old could muster. It was good to be home._

The scene in the Sperlings little house (which looked very similar to the home my Mum and I had shared before she died) faded away leaving us both blinking down at the battered tome. The words that followed lacked the pull of what had gone before.

_Of course Jonathan gradually faded as the real me slowly reasserted myself but it was over a year before I even remembered I was the Prince of Avalon I had buried myself so deeply within Jonathan. We even performed for Bess and not so much as flicker of recognition on my part. Not even after Bess called me for an audience after noticing Jonathan's marked resemblance to Draco. I was so nervous at the thought of meeting Glorianna I nearly threw up in her lap. _

You could almost taste his amusement in the words.

_Too bad that little breath of peace couldn't last. _

And suddenly we were back in the past…

_I leaned against the parapet trying to catch my breath. Damn it Jane, why wouldn't you let me save you? I called flame to embrace me as I shivered from more than mere February chill. February 12th, 1603, the night of Diwrnod chan y Arwylo, my Vigil for the Dead. I pushed away from the stones and watched my dead as was appropriate, as was respectful. The Vigil was something that fossil Henaint had told me about. Bledri had mumbled and sworn that nobody did this any more but it seemed…right and be damned if it was unfashionable among my kind. This would be my last Diwrnod chan y Arwylo in the Outlands. I could feel the Draigs calling me to my Defoed with ever beat of my heart. The demand to go to the Beddrod am y Draig was becoming progressively harder to fight but I was determined that I would present myself on 70th anniversary of my birth still nearly six weeks away. I gritted my teeth and rested my head against the stones of the Tower. I would NOT be ruled by the ghosts of a pair of long dead lizards. I would go at a time of MY OWN choosing and pass the Mawr Llidiart chan Avalon, the Great Gate to Avalon on Salisbury Plain when and if I bloody well saw fit. _

_"We are the Queen and we will PASS, SIR."_

_"But yer Majesty" I felt rather sorry for the poor beefeater at the Water Gate. Bess in that sort of mood was not to be crossed lightly. And my annual haunting of the Tower ensured that the guards were…loath to enter tonight. _

_"We will not be turned aside from our own keep by mere specters. If thou be not man enough WE ARE. We will have privacy. My guard may stay and tremble at the gate." And with that she sailed past him in full regal dignity. Now the question was – did I wish to speak to Bess? It would be easy enough to wrap myself in Shadow or to walk through the Tower's well tamed stones. No, soon enough I would leave the Outlands possibly forever, our parting should not be an argument if I could prevent it. Besides my rage had cooled long ago and only my pride had kept me from replying to Bess's pleas._

_"Ware your footing, Your Majesty. The stair is slick and treacherous."_

_Will! What was Will doing here with Bess? Oh bloody hell in six weeks it wouldn't matter anyway. I wrapped the Shadow Draco around myself and debated which spot provided the most dramatic entrance. Should I rise up behind them? No, I didn't want to frighten either of them to death though Bess was long used to those kinds of stunts from me and would likely be unimpressed by Draco. So…not Draco then. Jonathan or just me? Jonathan. I turned my back on the ghosts in the courtyard as they crested the stairs._

_Will paused and blinked at me as if I were playing Hamlet during the Merry Wives of Windsor. "Jonathan? What trickery is this?"_

_Now Jonathan to Draco (which wasn't really much of a change - just eyes, ears, nose, chin, and costume)._

_"You naughty knave" Bess said quietly._

_I had expected something far more vitriolic._

_"You left Us sore vexed and deeply worried for thee. It was most unkind to let Us be so long estranged, especially when thou was often in Our presence."_

_I had been braced for shouts and possibly even blows this quite, wounded woman left me feeling like a true rake._

_"Well you might blush, ruffian."_

_Was I? Apparently I was both blushing and a ruffian. "Bess" I began but she shushed me while Will looked like he wanted to sink into the flagstones. I could have arranged that but chose not to. _

_"Just say ye will not leave me again" Not the royal us but the familiar me. I didn't want to lie to her but I was already fighting tooth and nail to stay in the Outlands. The Blood was calling like a loadstone and had been for months if it wasn't a point of pride that I chose my own hour I would have been in Avalon months ago. _

_"You know I'm a Changeling, Bess" Will's eyes were wide as saucers as Jonathan became Draco. I whispered sorrowfully "I was never meant to stay here forever."_

_"How much longer?" there was real fear in her eyes._

_"I have already tarried nearly a year too long. I plan to depart on the 28th of March but I may be forced to go even earlier."_

_I felt like a knave, a cad, and bloody bastard all rolled into one as her face fell. She pressed her boned, bejeweled form against me and wept. While I tried to comfort her I wondered how I was going to get all the cosmetics back out of my doublet. _

_"You can't, you can't. We forbid it. You can't. You can't go and leave me utterly alone."_

_The great irony of the throne. No one in all England had more company and no one was more alone. _

_"You can't leave me friendless."_

_Friends? Were we friends? I suppose in our own twisted way we were. We had both used and betrayed each other so often I'd need a ledger sheet to sort out who was ahead but we had also watched each others' backs and not only for our own personal advantage. Being Jonathan, and more particularly being part of Will's company, had taught me more about real friendship than sixty years in the courts could teach me about treachery. I held her tighter, drawing her into my embrace and cushioning her from the hard stones. She had a point. Everyone else WAS gone, all of the people who had formed our little circle of not-quite-friends were long in their graves leaving her surrounded by young strangers who lacked even the thin veneer of camaraderie and the bonds that the fires of shared trials that had forged us into whatever we had been to each other. _

_"Please stay with me until I am sleeping" Bess didn't beg, except she was. Not the Queen but the girl who had bested me at archery while I'd bested her at embroidery. Of course I had eventually become a respectable if not superb marksman – the same could not be said for Bess's skills with needle and thread. _

_What do I say? Though I had often deceived and occasionally boldly lied to Bess I had never made a promise I hadn't kept. I didn't want to start now._

_"I don't if I can but I'll try."_

_She swallowed and her eyes hardened._

_"I was never meant to stay here forever." I repeated "Very soon it may cease to be a choice." _

_I had made a point of having as little actual physical contact with Bess as possible lest she realize just how young I still was but with her in my arms there was no denying that Draco overlay the real me. _

_"Sixty-seven years we have known one another and never have I truly seen thee nor heard thy true name."_

_"Bess, I've been here so long **I** don't even recall my true name" which sounded better than no one had bothered to give me one. _

_"Hast thou also forgotten thy true face as well sir?"_

_I sighed this was a cruelty I would have preferred to avoid. To flaunt my youth could only mock Bess's age but she had asked for it and while my wrath had cooled there was still enough lingering resentment for me to be petty._

_I had expected a bit of surprise but not horror, after all Draco was just a projection of my own mien at maturity._

_"A child" she whispered "I have sent a child into horrors to which I was loath to commit men grown."_

_Oh, bloody hell, "I am six months thy senior and will be seventy on the 28th. I AM NOT A CHILD."_

_"What have I done?"_

_I was sorely tempted to shake her. "I am not a child" I repeated instead. I was beginning to feel like a parrot._

_"That, I wager is a recent development" she retorted straightening up "and I would raise thee that that is the reason of thine recall."_

_"Milady knowest well her fairy tales." I very determinedly did NOT blush._

_"With thee in my court twas necessity. Thou was a naughty knave to leave me to fret for thee so whilst thou didst strut boldly on the stage in mine own presence."_

_Which reminded me of Will and the question if I was still welcome in his troop. I glanced in his direction. _

_"I'll expect thee at The Globe on the marrow, we have much to do if thou art to play Desdemona ere thou depart for the Otherworld."_

_Apparently revealing that I was an Ellylon was not going to save me from forever being stuck in female roles. Not that any of the male roles in Othello were all that attractive either. Othello was a dupe and an idiot and Iago and I were in all honesty uncomfortably similar._

_"Master Shakespeare we doth not recall a Desdemona in thine earlier works art thou preparing a new play?"_

_"Othello, your majesty. Shall I expect my 'leading lady' in good order on the morrow or it is thy pleasure to keep him?"_

_The him in question had a fair bit to say on the matter and Bess must have noticed something amiss "If it is his pleasure then I can in no way gainsay it for he is not my vassal."_

_And it was long past time she got that through her thick, royal skull. I did note that she did not mention that she was in troth mine but you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks. _

_"An it please thee, gentle Will, I will most assuredly be in mine accustomed place at nine of the clock."_

_"It would please me."_

_"So be it."_

_"I do hope that thy Desdemona is better than thy insipid Ophelia. We were most disappointed in Jonathan's performance ere knew he was thee. Knowing he was thee a bit of advice, it ill becomes those of our rank to pout."_

_"An actor is only as good as his material. Ophelia was insipid long ere I ever spake a single line."_

_"A truly great actor is better than mere lines. And I do to know just how great thou art. Thou wished to play Hamlet and thou didst to pout, prettily, thou dost to have that much grace but pout thou didst through all of thine scenes. A word to the wise if thou dost ever wish play the man ye must stop playing the woman so well."_

_I dumped her on her arse and turned to leave._

_"Please don't go. I only meant there are few men who play women well, of course Master Shakespeare will never let thee play ought else."_

_"I thought my Ophelia was insipid" I challenged._

_"But still well done and your Beatrice was beyond reproach, your Kate left Us breathless, and your Juilette left not a dry eye to be found. " She shivered. I immediately warmed the air around us. A chill at her age could easily be deadly. _

_"Come let us get thee out of the night air. I'll see thee back to Whitehall."_

_She would not release my hand as I helped her to her feet and then down the stairs "Promise me that you will not leave me." Her next words stated more fiercely made me shiver "You will not leave me again, for I will leave thee first."_

The Tower faded leaving us looking a mere crabbed letters again.

_And she did. Yet another friend who made me sit and watch them die. I wonder if it ever occurred to them that…bah, it doesn't matter._

_You treated me not one iota different after learning I was an Ellyllon than before. You have NO idea what a gift that was. And what balm it was to my soul Will. That alone would have earned you a special place in my heart. No demands, no mistrust, you even kept a rein on your insatiable curiosity until I gave you leave. You have no concept of just how unique you were in all my life, Gentle Will. And then to compound it, you, and you alone, have remembered me in my plight._

_"She swore she'd write"_

Again we were pulled into another time and place…

_ I deepened the kiss savoring the taste of Alwyna as I pulled her closer. I'd done everything I could to make tonight perfect. Henri might be content to rut with anything anywhere but I had far higher standards. I wanted at least a touch of elegance and a woman both worthy my time and innocent enough not to realize this was my first time. Enter the young widow Robbins. Wed at fifteen to a man more than four times her age he hadn't survived the year and looking at her exquisite enaid he hadn't 'enjoyed' his young wife much, possibly not at all but no one would expect her to be a virgin later either. She liked me I liked her but neither of us was in love, plenty of lust though, if I wasn't leaving for Avalon in the morning we could have had a sweet little affair instead of a single night. I felt a flash of remorse for the 'love 'em and leave 'em' approach but it wasn't entirely my fault and as I nibbled down the pale column of her neck on a circuitous path for her ample cleavage it suddenly didn't matter at all. Her red-gold hair slithered through my fingers as she arched back giving me freer acc_

_"UNCLE JONATHAN!"_

_I didn't know if I should laugh or scream. How the blazes did she DO it? Yes, she spoke to Wind but I'd sent the breezes on so many different errands there shouldn't have been one left to tip off my pint sized chaperone. I swore under my breath as Alwyna froze up like an ungreased axel. There went any hope of recovering the mood. How the BLAZES did she get here? I'd FLOWN to my meeting with Alwyna and we had then taken a carriage. No five and a half year old should have ever been able to follow me. **I** couldn't have followed me here at five and a half. It had to be some sort of wild card gift I'd never heard of but the kid was worse than a hound when it came to tracking me. _

_Gwyla bounced up between us like a blasted puppy, all smiles. Alwyna shot me a look that was equal parts frustration and fury and then raised her hand to Gwyla. I caught it before it could even begin to move. The draig roared to life. **NO** **ONE** raised a hand against one of my treasures._

_"Jonathan" she whined, eyes wide and suddenly terrified "you're hurting me."_

_Every scrap of desire shriveled and died. I scooped up my pint sized shadow, relaced my points, and swept out of the inn. She settled against me and sighed "Mine."_

_I considered being a gentleman and leaving Alwyna the carriage and then tucked Gwyla in it and gave the driver directions to the home I'd bought for Brenna and her husband._

_"But I wanna stay with you. You'll get lonely if you go back home now that Gran-Mum is dead."_

_I gave her the sternest look I could muster against those big, brown doe eyes. I had known the instant I met her those eyes were going to be trouble for someone, I just hadn't realized I was going to be her first victim. _

_"You're going to worry your Mum again."_

_"She won't notice" she pouted a little "She's too busy with Bobert."_

_"**R**obert" I corrected knowing full well she was going to keep calling her dreaded infant half-brother Bobert anyway "And yes she does."_

_"Are you going to forget me too when you and Alwyna have a baby?"_

_I choked a little on that and coughed to cover it "What on earth makes you say that?" And there was no way in Hell I would have had a child with Alwyna, a fling and some fun yes, a child, never. She wasn't THAT impressive._

_"Well isn't that what you've sneaking off for to pant all over her for?" She crossed her arms over her little chest and fixed me with a jealous look. "And why didn't you introduce me to the Queen? Now it's too late, she's dead."_

_I froze, how long had she been following me and how much had she seen?_

_"Why don't you wait and have a baby with me instead when I'm all grown up?"_

_I was utterly flummoxed. I had glibly conned kings, popes, pirates, and generals and was speechless in the far too earnest face of a five year old. How do I get myself into these disasters?_

_"I can't."_

_"But you're an elf." SHE KNEW! "You're going to live forever. I'll be big soon."_

_This wasn't exactly the way I'd envisioned this moment but I'd been dreading it all the same. I had been seriously considering taking the coward's way out by just vanishing but I also wanted to keep in contact with a few selected individuals and Gwyla was definitely on that list but to do that I would also have to teach her how and hope that the method I had established with Sandro would work in Avalon._

_"Gwyla, I have to leave. I am an elf and I can't stay here anymore."_

_She wrapped around me like octopus. "Takemewithyou" or something along that vein emerged from where she was smashing her face into my doublet. _

_It was only with some difficultly since I didn't want to hurt her that I peeled her back off of me "Gwyla. GWYLA. Listen to me. Little girls have to stay with their mothers." Unless they're like my sister and I. I restrained the shiver with difficulty as I wondered what was going to happen when I came face to face with my own mother for the first time in nearly seventy years. Would she still want to devour me? Welcome me with open arms? No care at all? Seeing me as merely a pawn in the power struggles of Avalon's court was by far and away the most likely option but try as I might I couldn't squash the hope for something better. And my father was a complete cipher. I knew he had had something to do with the death of my grandsire but I knew nothing of him beyond that. Would we be enemies or allies? For my part I sincerely hoped allies._

_"I'm NOT little."_

_Now, THERE was a protest I could sympathize with but there was no way I was going to show up in an unknown court with Gwyla in tow and leave Brenna and Glavin to wonder all their lives what had become of her. _

_"Yes you are."_

_"Am not."_

_"Are…Gwyla I am not arguing with you about this."_

_"But you would with your boat." _

_Thank the Draigs and the Christian God she wasn't my enemy. How could I have been so SLOPPY? This is what comes of mingling with the commons. You relax, make 'friends', and lose the edge that's all that keeps you alive at in the cut throat world of the court. I was sitting here hoping for some sort pie in the sky reunion with my ROYAL parents. I had to get away from these well meaning souls ere they were the death of me. My sparrows winged into the couch and settled around Gwyla with an easy familiarity. The birds? She had an established link with Wind as (so far as I could tell) her primary gift could I have missed aderyn llefaru, a bird speaker? I was creadur sgwrs myself, it was a vaguer, more generalized gift I could make myself more or less understood to a far wider range of animals but I would never have the incredible depth of communication a llefaru had with their single kind. Could that be the reason for the Sperling taste for bird names? Gifts did tend to pass through bloodlines. But even if she was an aderyn llefaru and had suborned my sparrows it would only explain her knowledge NOT her ability to follow me. _

_"You are NOT Peregrine. Gwyla" I leaned forward so we were eye to eye "You have promise me that you aren't going to follow me. You're going to stay here and grow up. They had to send me here because I couldn't grow up there. So you HAVE to stay here too."_

_She didn't like it but apparently accepted the logic. Somehow I doubted my sparrows could get her past the Barrier and into Avalon._

_"You aren't going to forget me are you?" her little lips were trembling and the single tear trickling down her cheek was enough to make me want to fight the pull of the Draigs._

_"Not ever" I promised "You know our secret, this is one of the reasons I've been teaching you write." Her parents hadn't approved of my plans to teach a girl to read. They thought it would 'give her airs' so we were doing it on the sly. "And I'm going to teach something that I hope will let you write to me in Avalon. But you have to promise not to forget me either."_

_"Not ever" she snuffled back._

We were abruptly back in the carchar and even though I knew Elizabeth and I were in a cabin aboard the Peregrine I could feel its cool marble walls pressing in around me.

_But she did Will. She stopped writing years ago. Your letters have mentioned her from time to time so I know that she was alive and well for some time after she stopped writing. I guess it was too much to ask of a five year old. Apparently too much to ask of anyone but you. And now you're gone. Thank you Will._

I could feel him press his face into the page as if he could touch Will through the pages and I suddenly realized just how much Mallory loathed being alone. A wave of desperate loneliness roiled up off the page and Elizabeth flung the book with a cry. She clung to me and I lost myself in her just as desperate to know that I wasn't alone.

**Historical Notes:** Gran was very much a real and fascinating woman and her encounters with Bingham are historical fact. Also interesting is the outright favoritism Queen Elizabeth occasionally showed her. More than once this 'hellion' of the sea was captured by English forces only to be set free for 'political' reasons. She even appealed to and visited Elizabeth personally in 1593 to save her youngest son, Tiboid (his name is spelled in a half dozen different ways I've chosen the one that looked the least 'Anglicanized'), from imprisonment and execution by Sir Richard Bingham. Richard Bingham was, I guess 16th century soldier of fortune is the closest comparison I can make. He was an Englishman who served in the multinational fleet against the Turks at the battle of Lepanto in 1571. He was a naval and military commander in Kerry Ireland in 1580 and became governor of Connacht in 1584. He had an affinity for map making and nepotism (he seems to have had several brothers who road his coat tails into various positions in Ireland.) Since the English weren't exactly angelic in the late 1500's in Ireland it's tough to say if Bingham was any worse than the others but the Irish seemed to consider him the worst of a rotten lot so we'll take their word for it. Gran's son Owen was murdered by John Bingham in the manner described though how innocent or guilty of insurrection he was in a matter of debate.

Leap Castle (Leim ui Bhanain) is a real place and is billed 'the most haunted castle in Ireland.' Its oubliette, the slaughter of the MacMahons and the Bloody Chapel with its ghostly priest who was murdered by his brother all historically accurate.

De la Marck is also an historical figure about whom I must admit I know very little most of which found its way into the chapter with the exception that the real De la Marck would have been long dead at this point from well, history can't seem to agree if he was executed or died of a dog bite.

Jacob van Neck did indeed make a voyage to the Spice Islands but I set it back a year since he would been halfway there when I have him talking to Mallory about Drake's charts. Speaking of Drake he loaded 7 tons of cloves aboard the Golden Hind but they never made it to England because Drake dumped them overboard.

Bess did indeed send several voyages trying to find a north east passage. Most of them ended up human popsicles but a few made it to Russia and an Anglo-Russian alliance was born.

The scene with Elizabeth and Hawkyns probably didn't play out exactly as I've depicted it but her final line is a direct lift from history. Given a choice between obeying international law or engaging in the illegal kidnapping and subsequent sale of human beings Elizabeth chose to become an active participant in the slave trade. Not to take the moral high ground and forbid it, nor to turn a blind eye but to become the major investor in the venture. She threw wide the flood gates and she knew exactly what she was doing. The Thomas Cobham story is also a direct lift from history.

****

**Cal**A puppy, huh, well there goes any hope that Mallory would come to visit. Any particular breed or just a mutt? Love Methos :), my affection for Duncan has its ups and downs. (And if you take the word of my Q Me? reviewers it's mostly downs, of course they don't know what comes next in the story). On the John Wesley Hardin quote what a deliciously twisted sense of humor. I knew there was a reason I like you.

I'll have to add Queen Margot to my 'to watch' list. Since I haven't seen it I can't vouch for its historical accuracy but Margot was well known for both her beauty and her promiscuity. On the subject of depraved her brother Henri III (the King of Trifles with the hair fetish) once chided her for her wanton ways and she accused him of getting her started and taking her virginity. History does not record his response. Mallory's Henri certainly had no room to complain about her affairs given how many he had but he did use that as grounds for their divorce. She did quite well financially from it and they remained amicable. I may have done Henri IV a bit of a disservice in the last chapter. Queen Elizabeth might be more famous but Henri definitely had the more interesting life. He, more than any other ruler of his day, seemed to have real compassion for the common people. Once when he had Paris besieged and people were dying in droves he ended up losing because he let non-combatants out of the city and food in. Later after he became King he told some nobles that one of the things he wanted most was 'for every man to have a chicken in his pot'. Not something most nobles would even notice. His turn on Mallory isn't completely out character though since he once turned on a long time friend over a woman that he discarded shortly thereafter. Henri IV certainly wasn't perfect (especially when it came to women) but when you read translations of his letters he seems genuinely concerned about things most nobles never even gave a second thought. And he seems to have had a real interest in justice for its own sake. Pity he ended up gutted before he could instill those virtues in his son. Oh and in an age before deodorant and indoor bathrooms (except for the water closet Bess had installed in Whitehall for her exclusive use (though Mallory was a regular visitor)) when people should have been used to BO Henri's pong rates a special mention on several occasions from multiple sources. The smell is historically accurate though the exact composition is a guess based on Henri's personal preferences.

Princes of Avalon do NOT pout (at least according to Mallory but he's a bit biased. Personally I have a very different opinion of a certain someone's not so little tiffs). And yes the 'whatever' definitely has a teenaged girl flavor to it. And yes, Mallory was (and is for completely different reasons) rather frustrated. Malloy's response to Jack's coif gets brushed on in the next chapter and possibly again later. Some things are definitely in for the journal but there are still a lot of maybes for me to sort through. On Mallory and gentleness as the saying goes 'there is none so blind as he who will not see.'

The problem with the diamonds was the QUANTITY she wanted. In Bess' defense Mallory is so busy pretending to be fine that it's tough to tell when you've crossed the line especially since Mallory's pride will force him to find a way to do the impossible or die trying. She had no idea he'd let her hurt him. In a lot of ways Bess replaced the twin he lost. Jane was his 'little sister' to protect and Bess was the one for intense sibling rivalry (and a love nearly as deep as the one for Jane but Mallory would NEVER admit to that!). Queen Elizabeth's jealous rages are well documented and she was very jealous of Mallory's affection for Henri who he pretty much declared 'brother'. Having no family of his own in exile Mallory sort of built one (much to Mannwan's horror) from the people around him. Lady Latimer as 'mother', Thomas Seymour as 'father', Jane and Bess as 'sisters' and Henry and Henri as 'brothers' with Gran as 'the girl next door that you pretend is just a pal but you secretly have a crush on'.

There's nothing Mallory despises more than a simpering woman which is probably why he has so many reds on his 'beloved women' list. Though Lady Latimer, Jane, and Breimi weren't reds (Gold & pearl, amber, and tsavorite respectively in case you are curious). Mallory is a being of opposites, exceedingly generous and loyal to his friends and unflinchingly vicious to his enemies. Actually on the rose water there are numerous reports of nobles managing both rose and lavender water at the front. I figured if mere humans could do it then Mallory definitely would.

On the subject of Mallory's thoughts with Anuion – Mallory really does give a whole new meaning to the term 'high maintenance' and he didn't actually _say_ it to Anuion. He would have said something much nastier to Bledri who he treated very poorly. (At least verbally, he consistently went out of his way to help physically but since he didn't know until he got to Avalon what the root of Bledri's problem was he was absolutely exasperated with him and took it out in regular tongue lashings.) If you read carefully Anuion is the only 'main' character in the previous chapter that doesn't appear to betray someone but he sort of does though the hint is buried deep in an earlier chapter and even Mallory hasn't realized it yet.

In defense of Bleanu, much like Bledri back in chapter 2, he thought he was doing the best thing for Mallory (and Avalon). He was a seer and he saw what Mallory was going to go through. He also saw what Auberon's ultimate plan is for Mallory (and Jack). He decided that even though Mallory would become the best king Avalon will ever have **_if_** he defeats Auberon odds are that Auberon will have his way. And that would be very, very bad. Safer for everyone if Mallory died before Auberon ever set eyes on him. Of course Mallory beat Bleanu's 'perfect trap' and lived (though enough of the poison is still in his chest to kill him in moments if leaks out).

On the subject of Mallory's pronouncement, Henri's descendants lost the throne of France but are still sitting on the throne of Spain today. Nimrais is playing it close but then Nimrais is by far and away the sneakiest of the draigs while with Angnar what you see is what you get. Oh, and though Mallory doesn't know it it was the Duke of Medina Sidonia's orange tree he crash landed in. Sandro found him being nursed by the duke's servants a few days later and took him to Peregrine and Sea. Medina Sidonia was the commander of the 1588 Armada that Mallory couldn't force himself to destroy down to the last man. Ironic isn't it :). The duke's servants spent the rest of their lives trying to figure out how a badly wounded man ended up in the uppermost branches of a tree. (They had a terrible time getting him down since he was in branches that wouldn't even support a child.) Speculation is he was a wounded angel.

To summarize what we know about Mr. Not Cotton, Sea gave him the cetera that Mallory sent overboard with Captain Gray back in chapter 2. The parrot is a twyllodrus created by Argellion in an attempt to circumvent Auberon's Gorchymyn to not communicate. So many different Ellyllon and cyfae have piled bits of magic on him that Mallory can't even see the real person under it all. Mallory restored his tongue but he still can't talk because of the Grochymyn. He and Mallory play what amounts to 20 questions and we discover that Puck put him in an enchanted sleep, he and Mallory knew each other in the 1500's, they were both friends and enemies, Anuion and Bledri (along with the other exiles) convinced him to go to Avalon in the guise of a slave to try and help Mallory because he owed Mallory, he was captured, tortured, and discarded by Auberon long before he even got close. Those who favor Mallory (and were still bold enough to act) got hold of him. Puck's enchanted sleep was set to break when Mallory got close but the spell confused Jack with Mallory so he ended up on the Pearl instead (though I didn't say the last tidbit in the chapter – so like the bits about the orange tree and Bleanu this is an exclusive ;). We know that he bows formally and is surprisingly handy with a sword, not just hack and slash but perhaps professionally trained. Bill suspects he's a courtier.

Both Anna-Maria and Marissa discovered Jack's pointy ears during his (if you ask him, Marie had a somewhat different opinion) daring and nearly single handed rescue of Marie and the girls from their 'brutish' Spanish captors. Since that particular adventure is in the 'maybe' category I'll leave it at that.


	21. What Jack Wants

**Author's note: **I know that this chapter is far too short considering how long it has been since I last updated. My apologies but I work in retail finance and you do NOT want to know what October-Jan is like. Please consider this a teaser for Chapter 14 b (&c?): **What Captain Sparrow Gets** coming soon to a computer near you now that I actually have the time to write it! Thank you to all my reviewers and I will reply using the reply function henceforth since apparently replying within the chapter is now verboten. Happy New Year!

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 14a: What Jack Wants**

"What are ye doing still a-bed ye lazy lubber?"

This must be a nightmare. It was inconceivable (to use a 'Jack' word) that Captain Sparrow was in our cabin at the crack of dawn the morning after his wedding. It must be another random bit of magic, some apparition cast by Mallory's unconscious mind. I pulled a pillow over my head in an attempt to ignore it.

"Elizabeth ye dulcet, daring, deceitful, darling let's see the goods."

"Captain Jack Sparrow" Elizabeth snapped back in her most aristocratic tone. Apparently, however unlikely, (though according to Mallory when it came to Jack the unlikely was likely), Jack really was in our cabin. I let the pillow slip onto the floor. "You knaughty knave" Maybe Elizabeth had read too much of that Shakespeare gent last night "how dare you barge into our cabin without so much as a 'by your leave'?"

"Pirate, luv" Jack reminded us with a golden grin. "Lass, don't leave poor Jack in suspense."

What on the Sea were the two of them talking about?

**Now**, Elizabeth's cheeks flushed. Nothing but a thin coverlet to hide her nakedness from Jack didn't shame her but whatever she was about to admit did. That bothered me almost as much as it would appall her father. Unlike the Governor, I understood that her lack of propriety was part of what made her Elizabeth. I loved her because of it and in spite of it much like Mallory loved Jack because and in spite of the fact he was a daft idiot. Of course if Elizabeth had had a sense of propriety she never would have returned my feelings either, so I gritted my teeth and said nothing.

"I didn't get it" she admitted very quietly.

Jack blinked at her like she'd just said pink whales were storming the beaches.

"Ah, lass, I give ye one, simple mission and ye fail. Lizzy, I thought ye wanted te be a pirate."

Elizabeth started to sit up without thinking and then snatched the blanket back up over her breasts. Jack's face went from hopeful to crestfallen in a split second. Old lecher. If he wasn't a dear friend I'd have challenge him to duel over it. I briefly entertained the idea of doing it anyway just to get the fact that his leering bothered me through hi s thick skull. The only thing stopping me was the thought that the sneaky cheat would find some way to humiliate me.

"I don't see **you** with his journal either" she snapped back, eyes flashing "Sea never gave me an opportunity but we did learn some fascinating things. Your brother was quite…chatty last night."

"Me brother? Chatty? 'Bout his royal highness?" Jack's tone grew progressively more strident. He turned as if to head for Mallory's cabin and propriety be damned I went after him naked as the day I was born.

"Jack" he stopped dead and blinked at me. I could feel my cheeks flaming but I had to talk to Jack before he barged in to Mallory's cabin. From the look on Jack's face he'd have been less surprised (and undoubtedly more pleased) if Elizabeth had followed him in this state than I. I wished I'd at least grabbed a pillow or something.

"We have a serious problem, Jack. It's bad. Worse than you could possibly imagine."

A moment of complete and utter seriousness from the usually irrepressible Jack "I know he was chewing on the business end of a pistol. It doesn't get any worse than that and he didn't go through with it, whelp. Best that ye and yer bonny lass get…suitably attired afore we depart for the Pearl." He grinned wolfishly "Unless the two o ye are planning te start a new fashion trend…"

I ducked back into our cabin just as my father emerged from his. The fancy party wear we had had on last night was in a shambles from the fight and would take far too long anyway. I ripped open the dresser and was surprised to find plain but well made clothing that would fit both of us. I tossed Elizabeth the shift and dress while I pulled on the britches and shirt. I whispered a thank you trusting that the air would deliver it to the proper party.

Elizabeth was hot on my heels as I stopped dead in the companionway. Mr. Not Cotton was holding Jack at sword point.

"This is mutiny, mate" Jack growled "And I've very little time or tolerance for mutineers these days."

"Becalmed" the parrot protested while Mr. Not Cotton simply stared stoically ahead. I had been in a hurry because I was worried Peregrine might do something to Jack I hadn't considered that Mr. Not Cotton might be a threat.

"I gave ye a direct order ye scabrous dog and ye defied it. How is defying yer Captain not mutiny?" Jack seemed far more angry than afraid.

"Becalmed", the parrot repeated.

"Well, since I definitely ordered ye, and ye definitely defied me, I assume that yer no longer a member o me crew."

It wasn't really a question but the parrot squawked "Wind in the sails."

"Me brother thinks ye were sent te Avalon te help him."

"Wind in the sails, wind in the sails" the parrot cawed, bobbing his blue head.

"But is that what YE intend?"

"Wind in the sails" the parrot nearly shrieked while Mr. Not Cotton remained utterly motionless.

"Then we're on the same bloody side mate" Jack made to move forward and the tip drew a trickle of blood. Jack backpedaled nearly colliding with my father and drew his pistol. "Then the question is mate – are ye willing te die for me brother?"

The sword never wavered which meant Mr. Not Cotton had to have the strongest wrist on the Earth because while that wasn't the heaviest cutlass I'd ever seen it was no light practice blade either.

Mr. Not Cotton never flinched as Jack cocked and took aim.

"Jack, what are you doing?" I hissed but he ignored me as he and Not Cotton stared at each other. Elizabeth flinched behind me digging her fingers into my shoulders but there was no blood.

Now the parrot answered very firmly "Wind in the sails."

Jack stroked his beaded beard. "I swear te ye I mean him no harm, Mr. Not Cotton."

The parrot paced up and down on his perch.

"And I'll wager that there are better targets for your blade than poor Jack Sparrow." Jack sighed when the man didn't even blink "I take it he's flat aback then?"

"Wind in the sails."

"Can I just bloody look in the window then?"

Mr. Not Cotton pivoted with military precision so that the blade remained between Jack and the door but he could now look in and Jack, being Jack, just had to press the situation. Mr. Not Cotton with one swift flick sent both beaded strands of Jack's thin beard to the deck.

"Don't ye think yer taking this all a mite too seriously?" Jack asked. Mr. Not Cotton's response was to push him back with the flat of the blade.

"Bill" Jack barked.

"Aye?" my father responded.

"Ye'll remain here with Mr. Cotton and keep watch over me brother until he regains consciousness. Will, milady, yer with me."

Captain Jack Sparrow was not a happy man I thought as I rowed and he worked the tiller. Elizabeth was filling him in on all we had seen and heard with me clarifying or adding a bits she'd missed.

"Failure, despair, guilt, and grief" he muttered when she reached the end of his first fight with a mardeth. "I wonder if that's in order of importance? So what did ye discuss next?"

Elizabeth moved on to Jane and Jack exclaimed "I'm named after a bleeding bird!"

"A bird that salvaged his sanity" I pointed out as I rowed "and that he held dear but let fly freely."

Jack seemed to mull that one a bit before nodding to Elizabeth to continue. I stopped her when I realized that she'd missed Argellion's death "When he paused, when you asked him if he was alright. He wasn't he was remembering something else. He was remembering the night he killed Argellion."

Jack leaned forward and Elizabeth's brows shot up "And how do you know what he was thinking William Turner?" she asked tartly.

"I guess it was because of the link when he healed me and him being so tired but there were times last night when I could see through his eyes. Remember what he was remembering."

When the morning sun caught all the gold in Jack's grin I was nearly permanently blinded "So ye know what's amiss with me brother and how te set it right?"

I shook my head "I just know what he was thinking about last night." That was more than enough for a lifetime.

"Ye mean te tell me ye had free access to plunder and pillage me brother's mind and all ye did is look at what he showed ye?"

"Some of us aren't thieves" I spat back as I dug in too hard with the oars and sent water over both of them. Part of me wanted to apologize to Elizabeth for that but she'd been giving me the same look, like I was an absolute idiot for not ransacking the poor man (elf, whatever)'s mind while I had the chance. And that's assuming that I COULD have.

"Will, we only want to help."

I believed that of Jack, I was less sure of Elizabeth. "Do you want to hear or not?"

They both nodded and I started to tell them but midway through I found myself weeping. And the harder I fought to stop, the more I told myself that I hadn't even **_known_** Argellion, the more tears flowed down my cheeks. "Sorry" I muttered as Elizabeth passed me a blue handkerchief that had to have come from the cabin aboard the Peregrine. Speaking of thieves. The story tumbled out in fits as starts but I left out the bit that it hurt him to talk to Wind, Sea, and Peregrine there was no need for them to find out from me.

"What did ye say they were called" Jack interrupted "the things that slaughtered Argellion, not the El'lan word but its meaning."

"Drainers of life, devourers of hope" I answered and what Jack implying hit me like a hammer. How much of Mallory's despair had been natural and how much had been the result of the monsters he was fighting? I had been so caught up in Mallory's grief and despair that I hadn't even considered that the despair might not be his own. "He was going to do it Jack. He was going to gut himself on a dagger I forged." My dagger, my hand. Something I had made had nearly ended Mallory's life. I made weapons. I knew that they were going to draw blood but this time it had nearly been a friend's and the thought made me want to wretch. Until Jack I'd always imagined them killing pirates. After Jack I'd imagined them killing evil pirates. Now I couldn't shake the image of one of them killing the man who had taught me to forge them. "He's even worse right now. The only thing holding him here is duty."

Jack drew a long breath, "Argellion died before the curse was broken, Mallory was fine at yer wedding" Not if you listened carefully to my father but he was a far cry from the shattered man in the windowsill last night too "so something bleeding well happened not long after."

"There's more Jack. He's not just afraid for you. He's terrified of you. After your father you're the last person he wants to be anywhere near right now."

A miracle occurred. I rendered Captain Jack Sparrow utterly speechless. "I don't know why Jack, but it's true."

Jack licked his lips and then spoke "I'm not proud te admit it but I wanted that, in that split second that I hit him in the stair well all those years ago, when I threw him out o me life. I wanted te hurt him, and wanted him te fear me. It looks like I got what I wanted even if I don't have a clue why."

Jack's words sent a shiver up my spine because according to Mallory Jack did get what he wished for. "I think he knows how to overthrow your father but he won't do it. I think that's what Meleri keeps trying to tell us and I think it involves you somehow."

When Jack looked up his eyes were as brown and round pupilled as ever but they were Dragon's eyes anyway "Damn it all te hell!" he growled "but I wish ye'd gotten that journal Lizzy. I want te know what's amiss with me brother, I want te know why he's afraid o' me, and I want te know how te overthrow the bloody King O' Avalon."

My entire body broke out in goose flesh. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was what was left of the link to Mallory, maybe it was the touch of Old Blood that ran in my veins but I knew all the way to the core of my being that Jack's wild talent had just rearranged the course of the Universe to grant his wishes and all I could think of was Mallory's words 'sometimes it gets him what he wants in a completely different way'. We'd barely survived Jack's last wish. I desperately hoped things when better this time….


	22. What Captain Sparrow Gets a

**Author's Notes: My thanks as always to my reviewers!**! While this one certainly isn't one of my longest I did manage to get 2 sections into 1 month. 14c should be out in late Feb….

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 14b: What Captain Sparrow Gets**

When all the demons in hell didn't make an immediate appearance I relaxed just a little until those brown Dragon's eye fixed on me "Anything else to share, William?"

I swallowed and shook my head but Jack wasn't buying it. I didn't want to say that Mallory was in constant pain and I didn't want to tell Jack about his wild talent…so what did I say? I've always been a poor liar, unlike Jack and Elizabeth, and if I make something up they'd be onto me certain sure. The wind freshened sending Elizabeth's hair blowing and Jack's beads swaying. I remembered Mallory's determination that nothing else was going in his hair and I felt my face flush.

"He must have really hated those" I said nodding to the beads since my hands were full of oars.

He grinned and suddenly he was just, well, Jack was never _plain_, but he was just Jack again "I suppose he probably hates the beads since he was none to fond of the bells."

"Bells" I squeaked a bit, not so much at the thought that Jack had had bells in his hair, there wasn't much I wouldn't believe about Jack and his unique fashion sense, but bells had to have driven Mallory to distraction.

"Aye, met the sweetest lass in Sumatra who braided 'em inte me hair. Ye might not believe this but I was a somewhat contrary lad."

I had to bite my lip to keep from saying something sarcastic and Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"But I could never seem te rattle old Mallory so I went out looking fer something te do the job for true and proper….

_It was good to be on land again, not that he didn't love the Pearl and the deep blue sea, far from it, but there were certain…things ye could only get on land. Like the pretty lass whose come hither eyes were calling him from across the market place. Whatever errand it was Mallory had sent him on could certainly wait. Mallory would understand (well, actually, the bloody eunuch wouldn't but that was HIS problem) that it wasn't every day ye met a lovely, willing lass, especially after a long haul. Apparently the lass sold bells. What the bloody hell was he to do with bells? Mallory would find some use for the damn things. A little dickering, a lot of flirting, and several hours in the tent behind her booth later and he was the proud owner of some lovely memories and her entire stock of bells most of which seemed to have ended up in his hair. He gave his head a little shake, listening to the tinkle. While it was definitely unique and distinctive, just like him, it would make it tough to sneak up on anyone. So a test. Could he sneak up on eyes-in-the-back-of-his-head Mallory with the bells? Of course he could. He was soon-to-be **CAPTAIN **Jack Sparrow but first he needed to actually secure the odds and ends he'd been sent for. The fact that all the coin he'd been given for the purchases had been spent on the lass was no impediment at all, it just meant he got te keep his hand in, specifically in someone else's purse. Like taking candy from a baby (not that he'd steal some poor tyke's goodies. A man has to have some limits). Pity there wasn't enough time left te find something te truly annoy Mallory. Ah, well, there was always tomorrow._

_He wondered if Mallory would even notice that he was late. Probably not. Mallory had spent most of the last two months completely out o his mind (not that anyone else had noticed) and now that he was a bit more himself he was completely infatuated with that Dampier fellow. If he didn't know for a fact that Dampier liked lasses he'd have thought that the two of them were blasted courting. He wasn't honestly certain that Mallory even remembered Jack Sparrow still existed. And, of course, it just had to be navigation and charting that the two of them were so caught up in. Well, that and discussing that Newton fellow and his discoveries. Math and navigation. He shivered. He needed te know 'em both te be Captain (well, not REALLY, ye could always hire a navigator but a Captain should know all that stuff. The only thing he was good at was knowing exactly how much sail a ship could bear and what the weather would be, which as NO SMALL THING. The sailors all swore that he and Mallory were absolutely uncanny about things like that.) but he was a complete disaster when it came te sightings, sextants, tangents, and stars. Not Dampier, oh no he sucked up everything Mallory could tell him like a bloody sponge. A sponge, that's what the bastard was, soaking up the time that was rightfully his. _

_He was in a mood so foul by the time he'd clambered up Pearl's side that not even being back aboard his ship could improve it. He stalked across the deck, bells completely forgotten, ignoring the crew's bemused glances. The only consolation was that Dampier appeared to have finally left (probably to find some female companionship himself since he certainly wasn't the eunuch Mallory was). Good riddance. A little shiver of uncertainty crept up his spine. What if Mallory was thinking the same of him? Of course not, he was soon-to-be Captain Jack Sparrow, except everything hinged on Mallory keeping his word, what if he gave Pearl to someone else? He wouldn't, he couldn't Pearl was **HIS** ship but never before had Mallory sent him away in annoyance either, no matter what he did, until today. It wasn't as if what he had done anything worthy of being sent off on a senseless errand or to have merited the glances both Mallory and Dampier had leveled at him. All their excitement about bloody calculus, the very notion made his head swim. What was wrong with add, subtract, multiply, and divide? Juggling the inkpots over their books might have been a touch messy if he had dropped one but he **HADN'T** and Mallory, at least, should have known he wouldn't. Of course Mallory might have actually taken more exception to him pinching Dampier's purse than the juggling. Mallory was very practical when it came to his light-fingered ways. There were but two rules, first don't get caught (which he quite agreed with) and second, don't steal from the crew or the guests which he found a bit more restrictive and no matter how secretive he was Mallory always knew and managed to return the items. He'd even had the nerve to give him bloody pointers and tell him that as long as he denied his talent for hearing the Wind he'd never get the better of old Mallory. As if he should take the advice of a mad man about the voices in his head! Hrumph._

_A second flutter o fear this time for Mallory. Mallory was mad, always had been and likely always would be but he hated when Mallory 'went away', that was far worse than the general madness o believing in elves, magic, and whatnot. More o the bloody crew than not believed in that sort o thing but they were uneducated sailors, scholars like Mallory were supposed te have better sense. Mallory had been 'away' a lot recently. More than he had been in years. He **wished** Mallory would **stop** 'going away'. He hated, hated, hated when Mallory's normally lively eyes went utterly and bottomlessly dead. Speaking o which, sneaking up on Mallory in that state could be…less than prudent. The voices whispered back that he was fine today. He snapped his jaw shut, mortified that he'd been mumbling aloud. As a child all by his onesies on the streets o Tortuga (the mere thought o which made him miss it a bit, there was no better port for a pirate) the air that answered him back had been his only true friend until he met mad Mallory who also claimed to speak to Wind. And who was utterly, unquestionably mad. You could see him crumble, see the tide of darkness swallow him whole. If that was what came of believing in magic and of hearing the air than he wanted no part of it, he NEVER, EVER wanted to end up like Mallory; therefore, he didn't hear the Wind, nope not him, it was his imagination and nothing more! The instantaneous silence that surrounded him was a bit disconcerting as he crept towards the Captain's cabin. His pointed ears were just a fluke, so he was a freak of nature, that did NOT mean elves were real!_

_Not a single bell tinkled as he approached his unsuspecting prey who was pricelessly oblivious as he wrote in that journal of his. Closer, step by cautious step, with no sign that his presence had been detected. Odd that Mallory never seemed te dip that black quill o his. Nearly there just a few more steps. He didn't even dare breathe as he slid across the strange black wood o Pearl's deck. _

_NOW! He pounced bells ringing as the air roared around him saying something he didn't quite catch. Mallory shot straight up and for all world actually seemed te hover fer a moment as he spun dagger drawn te face him. He grinned pleased as punch te have one upped Mallory til he realized just how pale and pasty Mallory had gone and his cheeky grin was stillborn _

_Mallory swallowed, gave himself a little shake, and asked in a high, slightly strained voice "Jack what happened? Are you all right?" He slammed the dagger back into its sheath and searched his eyes for long enough to make him uneasy then he slumped "Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself and congratulations." He flipped the journal shut, tucked it into his shirt (where it disappeared as usual – how did he DO that?), and leaned against the desk with his arms crossed and head canted. "My apologies for ignoring you of late, consider me suitably chastised." Another deep steadying breath "So are the bells going to become a permanent addition to your…ensemble?" _

_Mallory had never actually told him what he couldn't wear just what he wouldn't buy which was pretty much everything he wanted. He flicked one of the bells. Anyone who didn't know Mallory as well as he did would have never noticed the slight flinch, the flicker o something in his eyes. This could be fun…._

"Never did figure out why Mallory hated them so much, but I bet ye know, don't ye, young William Turner?" not Dragon's eyes but still very intent.

"One night he needed to…distract Henri the III to allow Henri the VI time to escape." I was counting on all of Mallory's history lessons to let Jack connect the dots because I was NOT going to say it in front of Elizabeth. In all honesty, I might not ever say it but I could see understanding dawn in Jack's eyes followed by a touch of remorse while Elizabeth looked back and forth in confusion. Jack turned and looked back at the Peregrine.

"Damn it all, ye might have bloody SAID something" he growled "All this because ye couldn't just bloody _tell_ me a damn bit of what was really important." And then a softer "I wouldn't have done it if I had been properly informed."

I glanced over my shoulder and heaved at the oars with a sigh. Jack had ridden the tide out to the Peregrine which meant I had to fight it all the way to the Pearl.

By the time we bumped against the Pearl we had finished the entire sorry story of everything we had learned last night.

The muscles in Jack's jaw had gone progressively tighter and the anger in his eyes had grown "I think it's long past bloody time me brother had a bit o help and it's up te them that owe it te pay their debts" he said in a tone like well forged steel before clambering up the Pearl's side. Part of me wanted to be on the Peregrine standing watch. Mr. Not Cotton claimed to be on Mallory's side but we had no proof of it and now my father was alone with him and an unconscious Mallory and Mr. Not Cotton had proven himself very, very handy with a blade last night. A courtier if my father was right and nothing I had seen through Mallory's eyes made me any more inclined to trust one of them on blind faith than my father was. I knew that Sea would be more than able to protect him since prophecy claimed he could not die at Sea but my father could, he wasn't the swordsman Mr. Not Cotton was even if he was probably the better marksman. I sighed and follow Elizabeth up the Pearl's side with a prayer on my lips for us all. I'd thought I'd lost all my faith when my Mum wasted away but I didn't know what else to do.

There was the distinct crack of a hand against Captain Jack Sparrow's face just as I cleared the rail. It was (if I was being honest) one of my favorite sounds and it was nice to know whatever else changed in my life Jack getting slapped on a regular basis was a constant.

Jack rubbed his cheek "Don't think I deserved that luv."

I winced. Jack might be years my elder but he had a lot to learn. Anna-Maria gave him a double backhand for good measure before snarling "How dare ye leave me te wake alone without so much as a by yer leave?"

I'd never noticed even the slightest trace of a French accent in her voice before, maybe being home again had revived it.

"I needed te check on me brother, luv" Jack replied very quietly but without the slightest hint of contrition.

Ana-Maria blanched a little, her glance flickered to the Peregrine, and she swallowed before asking "Is he?"

Ana-Maria and I had never been close (and likely never would be) but I felt a flare of pity for her. While she obviously hadn't seen Mallory or her parents in years they had all apparently been close once. Now both her parents were dead and if Jack's wish didn't do something her godfather was more a member of the walking dead than Barbossa and his crew had ever been.

"He's alive, flat aback but alive, Not Cotton and Bill are keeping watch." Jack's back stiffened "And Not Cotton is no longer a member o Pearl's crew."

Anna-Maria blinked obviously blindsided by that but then she had missed a good bit of what had transpired but like a good pirate and a good mate she nodded and asked "And what are yer orders regarding Mr. Not Cotton?"

"Apparently he's Prince Mallory's man so Mallory is the one who'll be giving any and all orders regarding Mr. Not Cotton but if he harms one hair on his head I'll keel haul him."

Something in **Captain** Jack Sparrow's voice made me think that that might be the gentlest thing Not Cotton could expect if something happened to Mallory because of him.

"Do ye think he will?"

Jack shook his head sending the beads clicking and sending a chill up my spine but I wasn't sure why.

"I think Mr. Not Cotton has been trying te get Pearl closer te Mallory fer months. I think he did bloody come te help and I think he'll die fer him if push comes te shove. Speaking o shove, luv, shouldn't we be shoving off te pay our respects?"

"In a moment, first I've something te say te ye in the cabin, Captain Sparrow."

Jack just looked utterly confused. How could a man that savvy be so dumb sometimes? All he had to do was tell her where he was going instead of slipping off. I wished him luck for the well deserved dressing down he was about to receive.

"Will, I think we should go with them" Elizabeth told me just as her father joined us.

"Elizabeth, dear, you're in a delicate condition" he said soothingly "you have to be careful. Things are…unsettled on the mainland right now. Think of the baby. You could work with the harp."

Before we were married I used to think that Governor Swann had no notion of how to control his daughter, after a few months together I realized he was a master. She frowned, ran her fingers across her stomach, and blinked up at me "You go Will."

I shook my head. I was NOT leaving her alone on a ship full of pirates, not even the Pearl. "I'm responsible for your safety."

"But she was Anna-Maria's mother and Jack's mother-in-law. One of us HAS to go."

"I'm not going anywhere without you" I said firmly as the Governor slumped in defeat.

"Don't worry, Father" she gave him a quick peck on the cheek "I'll be very careful and Will will protect us both."

**Both**, Elizabeth alone was enough of a handful and I knew my daughter was going to be a red, red like Jack. How was I going to manage? I was fairly certain of my ability to financially provide for my family (thanks in no small part to Mallory) but how was I going to keep them out of trouble? Especially if we had more red children?

Jack emerged looking suitably chastised followed by a subdued Anna-Maria who blinked at the Peregrine for a long time. The Governor started to join us in the longboat but Jack shook his head "Yesterday ye were a surprise. Today rumors o yer presence will be spreading like a wild fire in drought, ye stay aboard."

The Governor sniffed and straightened "Captain Jack Sparrow, you are hardly responsible for my safety. I"

"Au contraire" Jack rebutted, surprising me by cutting him off "ye invited yerself on this expedition, true enough, but yer me responsibility now and I hardly think the good Commodore will be in a magnanimous mood if I return ye ventilated or worse. So ye WILL remain aboard the Pearl, kindly inform me if ye prefer yer accommodation te be a cabin or the brig."

The Governor was clearly flummoxed by this turn of events before muttering a very dejected "Cabin."

Jack's gaze moved on to Elizabeth "I'd be grateful lass if ye stayed with yer father but I know better than te make it an order."

Elizabeth was clearly taken aback "Do you really think there will be trouble?"

Jack flashed her a golden grin "Lass, I AM trouble" then he grew more serious "I didn't think there would be trouble last night but me brother certainly sniffed some out and he said te keep a sharp ear on Marissa. Me brother may be barmy but he has nearly as uncanny a knack for knowing who to trust as he does for weather. If he says te keep an ear te the Wind it's with just cause."

"Then you'll need Will."

I had to fight smiling at the look on Jack's face – priceless.

"Captain Jack Sparrow was taking care o himself just fine, Madam Turner, long afore I ever made The Whelp's acquaintance."

"Only a fool refuses assistance, Jack" Elizabeth said in that slightly smug tone that was one of the few things about her I honestly hated.

But Jack neatly turned the tables on her "Would that be the kind o assistance ye gave me brother last night?"

Elizabeth flushed all the way to her roots and when I remembered how I'd left Jack to Barbossa I could feel my own cheeks flaming. Yes, I had thought he was going to trade me for the Pearl at the time but there was no real excuse for my behavior. I had judged Jack a monster simply because he was a pirate just as Henri had done to Mallory because he was an elf, though in my own defense, I had eventually learned that not all pirates are monsters which as far as Mallory knew Henri never had.

"Will is far better fighter than I am" she admitted "but I'll wager you'll be facing more than just swords and THAT'S where I could be quite an asset."

Jack muttered something that might have been "Gibbs has a point" under his breath but stepped aside while Elizabeth sailed past him and settled triumphantly in the bow of the longboat.

Before clambering down myself I asked him quietly "If it's unlucky to have a woman then why bring her?" I whispered to him.

"Because it'd be worse not te" he replied in typical Jack Sparrow fashion.

At least it was slack tide and I'd have Jack to help row. While working the forge all day was harder the motion was different and my arms were quite happy to have help and I was tired after the long night and far too early morning.

After everything I had seen through Mallory's eyes I felt centuries away from the aborted slave rebellion just last night but the dark bodies dangling at the dock brought it rushing back. The air was rife with tension. Every white man was armed, Elizabeth was the only white woman in sight, and every dark face was hiding rage behind a whipped dog stance. Lovely, absolutely lovely, was there ever a perfectly normal, mundane moment in Captain Jack Sparrow or Mallory, Crown Prince of Avalon's lives? Hmmm…did that mean Jack was a prince too, or did that count for bastard half-humans among the Ellyllon?

I trailed after the others away from Anna-Maria's family dock and back to the mansion with one hand on my sword as I could feel resentful eyes on my back.

Even Jack stopped to stare a moment at the macabre vision that the Bladran Mansion had become. The wedding decorations had been half replaced with the more somber funerary ones and the juxtaposition coupled with the sounds of human suffering coming from the stables created a scene that would live a long time in my memory. Elizabeth's lips curled upward at a particularly blood curdling cry. Before Jack I had hated all pirates and Elizabeth had loved them. I had never, ever let that come between us, never openly gloated when Commodore Norrington sent one of her precious ships to the bottom nor when they danced the hempen jig even if I was privately cheering. Elizabeth had no such scruples about rebellious slaves. I sighed. Pirates were bastardous thieves and murderers, one and all, including my father, Jack, and the Pearl's crew and I would be lying to say that it didn't bother me to be friends with them, good men (or woman as the case may be) or not. But slaves, slaves were just victims rising up against their oppressors and a part of me had always sympathized because if Elizabeth hadn't forced her father to take an interest in me I probably would have ended up an indentured servant, possibly for life with the wrong master. There were laws to prevent that but they were broken far more often than Elizabeth or Governor Swann would ever believe. I didn't know if it was being inside Mallory's head or not (and that was frightening) but suddenly my fence-straddling stance on slavery was gone. It was wrong, pure and simple, and I couldn't even conceive how I had ever managed to think otherwise.

I caught Elizabeth's arm as she took a step toward the stables.

"Our daughter doesn't need to see what's going on in there" I said with more steel in my tone than I had EVER dared use towards Elizabeth.

She blinked at me in shock, "You can't shelter her from LIFE, Will. When animals forget their proper place they have to be punished for it."

"Elizabeth, I love you. My life wouldn't be worth living without you. But do not EVER call them animals in my presence again." Yesterday I wouldn't have dreamed of talking to her this way. Yesterday I was a supplicant, grateful for any scraps she graciously demeaned herself to give me, she was my star come down from the heavens. Today we were suddenly equals and I couldn't even say when the change occurred. I wanted to shiver because clearly I'd brought a little bit of Mallory back with me last night but you don't show weakness at moments like this. Not my thoughts, not my thoughts at ALL. Except that he was right. I did have things to offer Elizabeth. There was no denying that she had married far below her station but that didn't grant her the right to use me as a human carpet, not that that was completely her fault. I had been perfectly willing to lick her feet clean without any instigation from her. Not any more, from this day forward we were true partners.

Her eyes narrowed, anger building "Who do you think you are to speak to me that way?"

"Your husband" I said simply but firmly.

"So I'm nothing but chattel, now?" she snapped, head back, eyes blazing. God, she was beautiful.

"Never" I said trying to force ever scrap of love and tenderness I'd have possessed into my voice and eyes "I'd gladly lay down my life for you but you owe me the same respect I've always granted you." Elizabeth had always known that I hated pirates but that had never stopped her from going on and on about them she could damn well give me this regardless of if she agreed with the sentiment or not. To my surprise she nodded with just the hint of a smile. Women, I just do NOT understand women.

Anna-Maria's roar pulled my attention off Elizabeth. Clearly she and Jack hadn't stopped to watch our little drama but had made their own way into the stable. I was saved from having to decide if I should stay with Elizabeth or follow them by Anna-Maria's reappearance back in the light supporting a man so battered I was amazed he could even move with Jack covering their backs sword drawn. I pulled my own and wished for my father and a brace of pistols. I should never have let Elizabeth come here.

There was another shriek, from the mansion this time, as Marissa flounced down the steps in a rage. The dress she was wearing was finer than anything I'd ever seen, even at our wedding. I breathed a small sigh of relief when I realized I had absolutely NO idea what style it was or what it was made of which meant I hadn't brought THAT much of Mallory back with me. I had thought Marissa loved her mother but the only thing about that dress that said mourning was the color. The rest was all about triumph.

"How dare you interfere with the discipline of slaves on **_MY _**plantation?" Marissa spat.

"Nabumwe was NEVER your slave" Anna-Maria shot back as we gathered more of a crowd of onlookers. "He's mine legally sold to me by father. And you'll never convince anyone that he was insubordinate."

"Of course he wasn't" Marissa returned smoothly "He's an example. If you were so concerned about your idiot you should have taken him with you instead of leaving him as a worthless mouth for this plantation to support."

I'd taken his vacant, dazed look to be a result of the brutal beating but the thick tongue hanging out of his mouth and moon face marked him as a fool. I'd known a girl like him in the slums of London though she'd died of pneumonia before her sixth birthday. I'd never met a sweeter or happier person even if she had been dimwitted. Beating someone like that even when grown was like abusing a child. What thin scraps of sympathy I'd felt for Marissa vanished under righteous anger.

"Pirates" Viscount Gerome Gaspar put in "are not welcome at this plantation. Take your property and go."

That pretty fop with his long blond curls wouldn't last ten seconds against Jack or Anna. Anna-Maria's gaze grew even more indignant "Our parents were pirates. You wouldn't HAVE two sous"

I froze in that instant as I realized THEY WEREN'T SPEAKING ENGLISH I was mentally translating their French.

"to rub together you blue-blooded, gold digging leech!" Now her gaze turned speculative "Do you own anything _Viscount?_ Has the will been read yet? Or did you, mayhap, wed the wrong sister?"

"I knew it, I KNEW it. You came back here to take what's mine" Marissa pulled a pistol out of her skirts "Just because you're the elder doesn't entitle you to a damn thing."

"You shoot me in cold blood, sister, and you'll lose the plantation and your life" Anna-Maria scoffed while I got between Elizabeth and the gun. Pistols were notoriously inaccurate even if she was a good shot she could still easily hit any one of us.

Marissa slumped a bit and pointed the pistol at the ground. I didn't budge from my place in front of Elizabeth.

"You always hated this place 'Ria why do you want to take it from me? It shouldn't be yours you never worked for it. You just ran off to play pirate."

Looking at the two sisters hands it was pretty obvious who had been working and it wasn't Marissa.

"I don't want it 'Rissa, never did and never will."

Anna-Maria took a firmer hold on the unsteady Nabumwe and we slowly made our way back to the Pearl. There was complete silence since none of us dared to speak to the fuming Anna-Maria. The only sounds were the occasional slap as I mishandled an oar and Nabumwe's whimpers as Elizabeth dressed his wounds. I had to grant that she'd been gentle despite her opinion of his humanity.

"I can't let her keep the plantation, Jack" Anna-Maria finally said shattering the quiet.

"And what earthly use would it be te us, luv?" Jack asked without ever missing a beat on his oar. I was amazed Jack could speak without waving his hands "We both have salt water in our veins, neither o us know a bit about farming, and ye hate slavery lass."

"I know" she said softly "I hated it when it was my parents who owned them and me father was just and fair. I could never forgive myself if I left them in Marissa's hands knowing what she's doing. Ye saw what was in that stable. Mayhap we could do what me parents did and I've some ideas for running the plantation without slaves."

That last clearly surprised and intrigued Jack but he shook his head, "Ye're me first mate, luv, and I've no intention o replacing ye so ol' Jack will just have te come up with a better plan. Besides ye don't know what the will said."

"I'm still the first born. That has te count fer something Jack." She hit the water. I wondered if Sea would have a problem with that "God, I **_HATE_** that place!"

"_I **HATE**_ _that place!" a much younger Anna-Maria shouted as she whirled to face me in my cabin, her normally ruby red-purple enaid blazing scarlet. Knowing her temper I'd already stocked a supply of sponges to replace several of the smaller, more breakable items in the cabin. The Shadows that hid the switch wouldn't hold if she actually paid attention to what she was grasping but I rather doubted that would be a problem. What would have been a delicate crystal vase if I hadn't switched it went flying into the far wall. I cast an image of it shattering while Wind provided a slightly over-enthusiastic crash to accompany it. A different Breeze returned the sponge to her side of the cabin. Fortunately Wind seemed to consider the charade a wonderful game and several Breezes were actually wiggling their sponges a little hoping to be the one thrown. "Do you hear me?"_

'_They can hear you in London' I thought but didn't bother answering the purely rhetorical question._

"_I don't ever want to go back home." This time it was a not-candlestick that flew across the room with a bounce and a thunk. Wind was of the opinion imitating glass was more fun._

'_Are you going to let her keep throwing things at me?' 'Grin asked with just a touch of a whine in his tone. _

'_Oh, buck up' I whispered as Anna cast about for something else to throw. Several sponges were practically flung into her hands 'do you have any idea how many holes your siblings have had blown in them through the years and you're complaining about sponges?"_

'_**He's** a battle ship. He's built for that sort of thing. She's a floating fortress. **I'm ** a pleasure yacht. I have to stay as pretty as you.'_

_I absentmindedly cast a Shadow of a lamp shattering while checking my mien in one of the many mirrors. Was I getting a little too thin again? It was so hard to remember to eat now that I was never hungry. Sparrow had always reminded me before. Oh Sparrow the mere thought of him was like a lance. I was a fool. I had been so damn terrified of telling him the truth, of him pulling a Heri on me that I had kept putting it off until tomorrow. Now I couldn't tell him, couldn't even get near him because of the damn Gorchymyn he'd wrapped me in. How the **HELL** had he known how to do it? I hell be damn sure had never mentioned, hinted, suggested, or vaguely insinuated such a thing was possible so how had he managed to catch ME in one? I might not be a rival for HIS ability with the Gorchymyn but I was no slouch either. Some half-breed child (non-withstanding the fact that he appeared to be my elder these days which was a depressing thought) should have never had a snowball's chance in Jane's God's Hell of wrapping ME in a Gorchymyn. My guts twisted at the thought of what the feckless boy could do if he knew the power he had over me. I am a Prince of Avalon. I do not cower – EVER. I firmly reminded myself that…_

"_Are ye listening to a word I'm saying?" Anna shrieked hitting a particularly discordant note._

"_You hate the plantation, the mansion, your sister, your nurse, and your parents, probably in that order. You don't ever want to go back. You want to be Captain Jack Sparrow's mate" In more ways than one "on the Black Pearl and you want me to make it all happen posthaste." I waved to one of the chairs but she folded her arms over her chest, nose in the air, bottom lip out. Sorry, girl, but I'm not your parents. Pouting does NOT impress me at all. _

"_Then why aren't you DOING it?" she snapped at me._

_I could feel the Draig rising. Not even Bess had ever gotten away with speaking to **ME** in that tone. Presumptuous brat. I had more than half a notion to beat better sense into her._

"_For someone who professes so profound a dislike for slavery you seem very comfortable giving orders" I let a touch of the Draig show in both eyes and voice and was pleased that the self-absorbed child could at least recognize a threat. I was going to take her home and not just because that's what I'd promised her parents. If there was one thing this little fiasco had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt it was that young Anna-Maria was NOT ready to leave the nest though I averred she had a rather different opinion and would not stay there long. The question was how should I best manipulate events to allow her both a bit of safety and enough freedom to learn to fly free? She swallowed a sat suddenly cowed. Would that she understood just how fragile a thread her life had hung by just a few hours ago._

"_Si vous plait?"_

_Please was clearly not a word that fell often from my goddaughter's lips. _

"'_Ria you've heard enough of your parents stories to know that finding Jack will be far more challenging than finding a needle in a haystack" I said earnestly in spite of the fact that I knew quite well that he was currently 41 miles south-south west of us. And finding a needle in a haystack was ridiculously easy if you had ANY earth talent at all. "And Jack is just as determined to get the Pearl back without any help from either of us."_

"_Then we'll just have to convince him otherwise."_

"_Of course we will" except that I couldn't get anywhere near him. I couldn't do a damn thing for no-longer-Captain Jack Sparrow until he blows that bloody whistle, if he blows that bloody whistle. There was nothing I hated more than the smothering confines of a Gorchymyn. Not the carchar. Not even HIS torture chamber. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt._

"_I don't hate my parents and 'Rissa. I just, my father was a slave once how can he own them knowing what it's like? How can he rob someone else's freedom when he cherishes his own so much?" Now that she wasn't throwing a temper tantrum she looked a good bit more like the girl I remembered. I did my best to shake off the feeling of being caged (which was impossible with the Gorchymyn beating down on me) and answered her._

"_Because he couldn't think of any other way to run the plantation and your mother refused to raise her children on the deck of a pirate ship. He wants you and your sister to have an easier life than he ever did."_

"_Then I don't want easy. Not at that price." I've killed hundreds with my own hand and thousands indirectly but monster or hero I have relatively few real regrets. I never in my wildest nightmares foresaw the full ramifications of Bess's decision with Hawkins. Oh, I had known quite well that it would be a disaster for both the Indians and the Africans. I had known it would be a slaughter but the scale. I had never once imagined the sheer scale. Millions of lives, centuries of misery, I could hear the dead. The whispers of the ones that died on the crossing were my constant companions as their ghosts wailed an unending Greek chorus of rage and despair. Usually the Sea's dead were quieter than the land's but the numbers that had been cast overboard turned silence into bedlam. I could have nipped this in the bud. It wouldn't have been easy and I would have had to let other things slip but if I had it to do over…. What a worthless thought. I didn't have it to do over. If I was on a real Taithe instead of being a crippled, hunted fugitive I might have been able to put an end to slavery but not now, and that failure galled far more than Sparrow's Gorchymyn. _

"_Then when your turn to run things comes you will have to think of a better way" I smiled a little as she obviously started truly thinking about the matter. When she wasn't giving Sparrow a run for his money in the 'impetuous fool' department my goddaughter actually had a very good head on her shoulders. We would be within sight of Hispanolia soon and the last thing I wanted was Anna-Maria to realize she would be back home within the hour so I began to sing a slave hymn. She nodded off still thinking about how to run a plantation without slaves._

"_Sorry Anna but I need to stay close to Sparrow and he's sailing in the opposite direction." Somehow I doubted she was going to be very pleased with me when she woke in her own bed particularly since I'd lied to her face._

_I picked up one of the sponges 'Don't even THINK' about it 'Grine muttered. I threw it against the wall anyway. It wasn't nearly as much fun as it looked. I ignored the collection of them Wind put in orbit around my head._

Jack words cut through Mallory's memories driving the scene from my mind, "All the proper legalities were taken care o in Jacmel, best we start there." He glanced at me "Whelp, ye tell Gibbs te take Pearl & Peregrine te the old pirates' cove. Marissa won't know te look there since we stopped using it afore she was a twinkle in her father's eye whilst Anna-Maria and I make a quick trip te Jacmel so that I can formulate a proper plan."

Elizabeth glanced up, bloody rag still clutched in one hand "Why don't we sail to Jacmel?"

"First" Jack said waving a hand for emphasis (clearly there was a very SHORT limit to what he could say without gesturing) while managing to row with one hand. Anna-Maria compensated at the tiller so we didn't slew off course which told me she'd have plenty of practice at this. "I don't want word te get back te Rissa that we've gone te Jacmel and the Pearl isn't exactly inconspicuous. Second, as much as me personal, physical being objects to being abused by those four-legged manure making machines me brother is so fond o it's more expeditious te ride from here te Jacmel than it is te sail. We'll be there and back afore ye can say Fanny's yer aunt."

Somehow I doubted that. I couldn't reconcile the two Anna-Marias in my mind. While she had more than kept the temper I just couldn't see the tough as nails and practical as a deck plank woman at the tiller as that soft-handed, almost Elizabeth like girl.

"So ye just keep a sharp eye on me brother and see if ye can't convince him te have a smidgen o mercy on Nabumwe and we'll be rejoining ye by and by."

We had a wretched time getting poor Nabumwe aboard the Pearl and it was with an uneasy heart that I watched Jack and Anna-Maria row back toward shore. I suspected that I held at least part of the answer to why Mallory was afraid of Jack. Jack could command Mallory but there **had** to be more to it than that because while Jack's ability had annoyed, infuriated, and yes, unnerved Mallory it hadn't generated the one step short of terror I had picked up on last night.

I slipped out of bed just before dawn to watch the sunrise. I don't think I had ever REALLY watched one. Pretty, but I had no intention of making a habit of it. I was just about to return to bed lest I face the same dressing down Jack had yesterday myself when Mr. Not Cotton's parrot fluttered into the rigging. I was surprised to see Mallory already hard at work. It was with a certain trepidation that I approached him. He appeared to completely ignore me. He glanced up in the course of whatever it was he was doing and I shivered under those empty, dead fish eyes. I cleared my throat. Blank eyes flickered to meet mine which instantly dropped.

"Do you require something, young William Turner?"

"Anna-Maria's slave, Nabumwe is hurt. Can you help?"

Still nothing in his eyes but he rose and moved with an easy grace on a straight course for the hammock we'd put Nabumwe. I followed at a cautious distance then thought about what Henri had done to him and forced myself to close the gap. The harp was still playing quietly beside him. Nabumwe had taken an instant liking to the harp and she had taken pity on him playing to soothe him through the painful night. Nabumwe started at his touch, then tried to smile through his bruises. The smile faded to confusion but the bruises and cuts faded before Mallory spun on his heel without ever saying a word and went back to what he'd been doing. The harp merely stared after Mallory little mouth 'o'ed then she buried her little face in her hands and wept. Nabumwe muttered something that I couldn't make heads or tails out of. I shrugged, patted him on the shoulder, and went back to bed.

Elizabeth spent half the morning throwing up. I had tried to be as supportive as I could but I must have failed because she threw me out of the cabin. I decided to see if Mallory could do anything except he was up by the crow's nest now. I swallowed. I'm a blacksmith not a t'gallent man. I don't like heights, not even a little but it was for Elizabeth. I wrapped my fingers around the ropes and resolutely began climbing. 'Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, don't look down.' I was nearly to Mallory when my foot missed a rope and the one in my hand unraveled. I snatched frantically but the rigging seemed to move of its own accord out from under my fingers. No, no, no, no, this can't be. My fall came to an abrupt crunching halt.

"You can open your eyes" Mallory said dryly but not in his earlier empty tone "you're not dead."

He had one arm tangled in my shirt and the opposite arm and leg (both clearly very broken) in the rigging. His eyes were alive. Tired, weary, and defeated but alive.

"Cennan, you always, ALWAYS keep three points on the rigging. If you break your back I can fix it, if you dash your brains out on the deck only your Christian God can save you."

"I did" I whispered as I turned a little so I could cling to the rigging for dear life myself. "The rigging moved. It wasn't me." I muttered still a little breathless into his ear as he straightened and healed his broken limbs. Had Pearl tried to kill me? And if so why? Or was this part of Jack's wish? His gazed flickered from me as his brow furrowed then he went instantly alert. For a breath I thought he was going to brush past me and take flight but in a split second he thought better of it and bellowed in a voice that could be heard all the way to Cathay.

"All hands beat to quarters and clear for action."

He turned blazingly intense eyes on me. Fury, fury like nothing I had ever seen before in my life. I swallowed. I knew that murderous gaze wasn't meant for me but I felt like a rabbit faced with a lion, or a dragon. It was hard to even think under those glowing brightly enough to outdo the sun eyes "The rigging won't move again, be careful, but get down as quick as you can. Jack, Anna-Maria, and Zander are in trouble." He then let go and dropped down lightly onto the still much too far away for comfort deck. It was only after he was gone that I could even think. _Zander?_ How the blazes had Jack and Anna-Maria run into Commodore Norrington at a FRENCH port?

Just as I started to pick my way to the deck I heard Gibbs give the order to weigh anchor.

"Belay that" Mallory snapped and the smell of burning rope hung over the deck as the Pearl spun like a child's toy boat and like a ball shot from a gun headed straight for the shore!

12


	23. What Captain Sparrow Get b

**Author's notes: **POTC still belongs to the Mouse. Dragon Hunter if you're still out there here is the chapter I've been promising you for a year…

**Historical note**: I've completely jump ship with history on this chapter. To the best of my knowledge no significant sea battles took place in the Caribbean during the War of Spanish Succession nor was Port Royal attacked (that I know of anyway).

Le Terrible, Le Hercule, and Le Bellseodur were real French warships under the command of the Comte de Estrees but he wrecked them in 1678 on reefs being a reckless idiot. I've undoubtedly made him more of a monster than he really was but he was 'a terror to command and a beast to serve under' and well known for his personal courage.

All vegetation on smaller islands was occasionally completely burned to make way for cultivation so while the scenario presented here is historically plausible but probably never happened. If that makes any sense….

**Blood of Avalon: 14c: What Captain Sparrow Gets (cont)**

I wanted to get down on my hands and knees and kiss the deck once I finally reached it but instead I rushed as fast as my rubbery knees would take me to join the motley group around Mallory.

"I protest most vehemently" Governor Swann was saying in the tone he reserved for particularly obdurate Lords. "You really must put all the civilians safely ashore before engaging not one but three hostile vessels. Two of which, by your own words, are the Pearl's match in guns if not seamanship." That earned him more than one hard glance particularly from Mallory's pure, glowing Dragon's eyes. "And the third easily a rival for the Dauntless."

Only Governor Swann could calmly make such a statement with tree tops whipping by the rail at an impossible pace as we rode the crest of a giant wave. What worried me was that we were making absolutely no provision for the slaves today. Birds and small animals were fleeing in every direction out of our way but several slave huts had been smashed by the wave and I could only pray no one had been inside. Given how careful he had been of the gardens earlier this said that whatever trouble Jack had landed in the middle of must be dire indeed.

"First, if I pause to allow you and milady Turner to disembark Sea will lose focus and momentum and will be far more likely to submerge whole towns." I was amazed at how serene Mallory sounded given the inferno blazing in his eyes. Every hint of his lethargy from before was utterly gone replace by a rapt fierce gaze. Even if I had had no idea what he was capable of I would have instantly known I was in the presence of someone deadly dangerous. But I did know and I suddenly found myself praying to Mum's God because Heaven might be the only thing that could save us if his temper slipped.

"Second, the more swiftly we arrive the more likely we will be able to relieve the Dauntless before Vice-Admiral Jean Comte d'Estrees' little fleet can send her to the bottom. Since you will need her to retake Port Royal if you are going to keep that wig stand of yours attached to your shoulders I would think you would be all in favor of swift action."

Governor Swann's response to the devastating news that our homes were in the hands of the enemy was to faint.

"Marty" Mallory snapped "Get this dross off my deck before someone trips over the overstuffed fool." He turned those compelling, terrifying eyes on my father. "Bill, I want you to put three exploding shells amid ship, just at the water line of Le Bellseodur. Fire the forward port guns into her as quick as you can. That should blow her powder magazine sky high. Gibbs I want you to engage Le Hercule under the cover of Le Bellseodur's destruction. That should take some of the pressure off the Dauntless if she's still afloat ten minutes from now. Milady Turner", I hadn't even noticed that Elizabeth had joined us. "I really must ask you to remain in your cabin." He put up a hand as she started to snap back something scathing "Yes, I am well aware that you acquitted yourself reasonably well in battle before but you are with child and someone needs to care for your father." Elizabeth nodded once and turned to go back below. That was more shocking than learning of the sack of Port Royal. "Milady" Elizabeth turned eyes slightly narrowed, ready to strike but Mallory merely passed her a sheathed blade, the one he'd nearly gutted himself with, the one whose commission had saved the shop. "I sincerely hope you don't need to use it but do try to make certain of you target." Just a trace of good natured teasing flashed through his eyes before they flickered to the horizon. Then I realized I could hear it too in the distance. Cannon fire. I suppose it shouldn't have been surprising that the Dauntless was attacking a French port, we were at war after all, except Commodore Norrington had been ordered to protect Port Royal and specifically forbidden to hare off on the offensive so what on the Sea was he doing off the coast of Saint Domingue?

"Jack and Anna-Maria are aboard the Comte d'Estrees' ship of the line Le Terrible" Dragon's eyes on us all. He was wound so tight with fury that he trembled like a plucked violin string and he hissed "The ship, its Capitaine, and crew are **_MINE!_**" he ended in a near roar.

My father's eyes met mine and I gave a little nod. I would do my best to stay with Mallory. I would follow him to Le Terrible if I could as much as I wanted to stay with Elizabeth and the Pearl. I noticed Mr. Not Cotton was shadowing him as well in the tense minutes before we burst past the last stand of palms and out onto the Caribbean.

It had been a beautiful day but clouds of acrid black smoke where rolling across the once pristine sky. The cannons had been silence just before we arrived and there was an eerie hush punctuated only by the cries of the sea birds and the wounded. The battle between the Dauntless and the Comte d'Estrees' vessels was clearly over. I searched the clouds desperately for ANY sign of the Dauntless. In spite of our competition for Elizabeth's affections I harbored no ill will towards the Commodore and many of the Dauntless' crew were good customers and a few were even close friends. I prayed that the Dauntless had merely escaped.

The thick smoke provided the perfect cover for the Black Pearl's approach on the unsuspecting Bellseodur. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword as I watched Mallory. I quickly swiped my stinging eyes. Blasted gun powder, the air was full of the stuff. What was I going to do if he flew to Le Terrible? If she was Dauntless' rival then she had to have a crew of at least 600 men. Far too many for Mallory, Jack, Anna-Maria, Mr. Not Cotton and I to handle alone but Pearl would be busy with Le Hercule.

"Now" Mallory roared and my father's guns spoke in quick succession. Mallory spun the wheel as the sailors practically flew to obey his commands. Le Bellseodur exploded behind us and in the rain of debris I nearly missed Mallory handing off the wheel and the command of the Pearl to Mr. Gibbs as my mind went briefly back to the day Barbossa had destroyed the Good Hope in an attempt to secure both the coin and I. No time for that now! I forced the memories away as Mr. Not Cotton and I jostled to stay behind him.

"Stay with the Pearl" he snapped at both of us while standing on the crest of a wave that had risen to the level of the rail. For an instant I thought he was going to force us to do just that. But he cursed and the wave widened a bit to hold all three of us. Sharks circled just below us already in a frenzy from the earlier blood letting. I fervently hoped they hadn't eaten anyone I knew.

I gulped at my first sight of Le Terrible. She was actually BIGGER than the Dauntless. We passed gun deck after gun deck as a column of water lifted us to her rail. Dauntless had never had a chance, not against this and two ships Pearl's size. It was cold comfort but I was glad Dauntless had gotten a few licks of her own in. It would take days at the dock to set Le Terrible right. But the Dauntless herself must be on the bottom. Damn it all, how had the normally canny Commodore Norrington allowed himself to be caught in so hopeless a trap? Captain Jack Sparrow's wish must have had _something _to do with it.

I didn't know if I should be relieved or not when I spotted Commodore Norrington surrounded by a little knot of red and blue. Was that all that was left of Dauntless' crew? There couldn't be more than a score of men (if that) and I saw no sign of Chris at all, though Lieutenant Remington might have been left with the Phoenix to protect Port Royal. Which was also under attack. It wasn't much of a comfort but if he had been aboard the Dauntless then he was dead, if he was at Fort Charles I could at least hope he had survived. Mallory actually _growled _beside me as he glared at what I could only assume was Le Terrible's Capitaine who was circling the Dauntless battered survivors like the sharks below. Hadn't he noticed Le Bellseodur going up in flames and the Pearl's attack on Le Hercule? It was only then that I realized I could no longer hear the Pearl's distinctive guns or Le Hercule's cannons blazing back.

The Comte d'Estrees swaggered toward Commodore Norrington. How brave, to taunt a bound and beaten man. I felt an instant dislike for the Comte. He said something I didn't catch to the Commodore. He must not have cared for his response because he drew back his hand to strike him but before I even really registered the action one of the little throwing knives that Mallory had commissioned from me in disguise appeared in the middle of his palm. I wanted to cheer. He blinked at it in shock before whirling to look for who had dared to throw a knife at him, his aristocratic face twisted in rage and pain. The Commodore gaped as he recognized Mallory. I never would have though James Norrington was capable of looking that broadsided.

"Vous" he spat in pristine, high society French "Who are you to interfere with the Comte d'Estrees?"

I threw up a hand to shield my eyes against the suddenly dazzling figure beside me. I squinted against the glare as the sun set the rubies on the Prince of Avalon's silver garb ablaze.

"The Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Avalon. Heir of Sea" he raised one glittering palm and the Sea spiraled to encircle the entire ship up to the crow's nest in vortex of water. I REALLY could have done without the sharks now circling ABOVE my head but at least it cut down on the glare since the sunlight was filtered. Somehow I couldn't really think of the shimmering figure beside me as Mallory. "And Fire" He lifted the other hand and three dragons of flame shot forward. One wrapped itself around the Dauntless' survivors, one around Jack and Anna-Maria who I hadn't even spotted until the dragon encircled them, and the third coiled, waiting at his feet. "Sole surviving scion of Titigalia, Queen of Wind" which now poured through the tiny opening above and screamed through the rigging blowing every sail to tatters. He continued as bits of shredded sail fluttered around us "And Shadow." Le Terrible's sailors finally reacted fleeing the twisted forms that now drifted across the deck in contorted agony. The Comte alone held his ground. I gave him credit for bravery. Mallory was on _my_ side and I wanted to slink back to the Pearl. I glanced back but could only just make out the outlines of the two ships and the flashes of their guns firing. I WANTED to be with Elizabeth but Jack was right it was high time for those that owed Mallory to pay their dues and I was one of them.

"Whatever your rank you are aboard my ship" he pulled the blade out of his hand along with a gush of blood and flung it just short of the Prince's dragon "and you have no authority here. Be off with you."

"On the contrary" the Prince retorted, his beautiful, unlined face perfectly calm. I realized then that I was still seeing a Shadow. The Prince wasn't nearly as thin as the Ellyllon I had held in my arms. "The Sea and everything on it are mine to command. Three times you have raised your hand against that which is under my protection. I let you slip through my fingers the first time a mistake I assure you shall not be repeated today. Cennan, go and release Sparrow and Anna-Maria from their shackles." The fire Dragon that had been curled at our feet rose to escort me to Jack and Anna. "Commodore Norrington if you and your men would be so kind as to move to the poop deck"

"Those are MY prisoners" the Comte protested as he wound a silk handkerchief around his still bleeding hand. I couldn't decide if he was very brave, fatally stupid or both. A flicker of the Prince's eyes and the Commodore and his men's bonds were ashes just as I forced Jack's shackles open.

"Not any more" the Prince chirped pleasantly with a grin far more deadly than any of the sharks circling above us.

"You are overconfident, sir" the Comte spat back in a fit of aristocratic fury. Some people were too stupid to live and I had to wonder how the Comte had survived this long. "He's just one man" he roared to his men "take him." They were less than eager and glanced nervously between their captain and the Prince whose grin grew even wider.

"Oh, please DO try" the Prince on the other hand looked absolutely elated at the prospect of a roughly 300 to one fight. He even went so far as to actually start gliding across the main deck toward them. The Comte drew his sword with his uninjured hand but the Prince set a fourth dragon to encircle him.

"Soon enough" the Prince purred "but not yet. Your men I intend merely to kill but you, I fully intend to savor doling out some crumbs of justice upon you. Of all the monsters I have ever met you disgust me more than any other."

The fire dragons herded us onto the poop deck. One kept Jack, Anna-Maria, Mr. Not Cotton, and I separated from Norrington and his remaining men while the other two formed a hedge between all of us and the rest of the ship.

"Something wicked this way comes" the parrot cawed from its perch in the rigging.

Lieutenant Gillette gave Jack a 'lean and hungry look' "Commodore Norrington" he said "shall I" he glanced over and realized that the Commodore was still staring at the Prince in shock. "Commodore" he repeated more stridently. This time the Commodore's gaze turned reluctantly and more than a little exasperatedly on him.

"He's right there, sir. May I arrest him or would you like to reserve the honor for yourself?"

The Commodore looked like he was questioning the Lieutenant's sanity. "We have slightly more pressing problems at the moment than capturing Captain Jack Sparrow."

Lieutenant Gillette's hand went to a pistol he must have picked up off of the deck. "Well then, since he's already been con"

"Harm so much as a single hair on my brother's head" we all jumped a little since it sounded like the Prince was right here instead of stalking what was left of Le Terrible's panicking crew "and you will share the Comte's fate."

Commodore Norrington gave Jack a long look but Jack was too busy watching the Prince to notice. My own eyes flickered back to the Prince at the first ringing clash of metal. All four of us pressed as far forward as the heat of the fire dragon would let us. I noticed from the corner of my eye that the Commodore had done the same. "Jack, DO something" I whispered "there are too many for him to fight alone."

"I don't recall Mallory ever teaching me how te walk through fire" he said. He gave an experimental puff and the dragon turned to glare at him with literally blazing eyes. "Any suggestions, whelp?"

The handful of men brave enough to actually face the Prince in battle were already dead. Seconds, he'd killed over a score of men in seconds. He was trying to taunt the rest into the fight while the Comte screamed at his men to find their courage and overwhelm 'the interloper'. He was really going to kill them all. The dragons were as much to stop us from interfering as they were for our protection. Not as a berserker this time. This time he was almost giddy. I wanted to turn away, I didn't want to see the man, Ellyllon, whatever, that part of me thought of as a hero engage in this massacre but I couldn't seem to stop watching.

"What the bloody hell de ye think yer doing?" Jack whispered sounding desperate.

I wanted to snap back 'what do you think he's doing' but then I saw it too. He was leaving himself wide open to counter attack. If any of the men down there had truly had their wits about them Mallory would be dead. Period. You can't fight like that and not pay the penalty. He was bordering on suicidal. I knew that from the other night. And he was all but begging them to kill him as he killed them. Bloody hell. And then it didn't matter because it was over. I couldn't, honestly, tell if it had been moments or hours. I had to swallow bile and I could hear several of the Dauntless' remaining crew losing their own battles with their stomachs. Then the Prince (the Prince, not Noman, not Mallory, I didn't know that **thing** on the main deck below us) turned toward us and that slight smirk of triumph pushed me over the edge. I dropped to my knees retching on the deck. When I rose I strained my eyes again looking for the Pearl. Both ships appeared to still be a float but there was not sign of cannon fire.

At some point the Comte had gone pale and silent, clearly, finally, understanding just what kind of danger he was in.

The Prince canted his head (the crown glittered in the dappled late afternoon or early evening sunlight that came through the water still enclosing Le Terrible in a horrible, blood stained tomb. It had a strange, macabre beauty in the in spite of the horror. Trust the Prince to have a sense of ascetics in the midst of slaughter) considering the man before him "And what am I to do with you? What punishment is worthy of your crimes?"

The Comte sniffed in contempt "What crimes? What crimes do you accuse my poor innocent men and I of committing?"

The Prince's beautiful young face contorted in rage and he shrieked "Can't you hear them? Are you so blood soaked you don't even remember their faces?" He swallowed and took a breath to compose himself but it was clearly difficult. Knowing just how good he could be hiding his emotions I began to wonder what he heard, what these men had done and if the slaughter might, just possibly, have been justified. "Let your dead bear witness against you" he whispered as one by one shades appeared until the main deck was overflowing pleading native women and screaming children. If it hadn't been for the gleaming silver garb I never would have been able to keep track of the Prince in the press of ghosts.

"You call exterminating vermin a crime?" the Comte sniffed looking down his nose at the much shorter, slighter Prince. Prince Mallory because I suddenly put the pieces together. There had been rumors of a ship 'clearing' the smaller islands for cultivation. That someone was burning all vegetation off of some the islands and claiming them for France was well known but there had been talk of bones, human bones, found in the ash. It was always possible that they were just native cemeteries exposed by the fire. Now I knew that they hadn't been uninhabited islands and that the natives had been slaughtered to make way for 'civilization'. "Elves must have a strange sense of justice" the Comte smirked condescendingly "and clearly a gauche willingness to…mingle with riff-raff." He said with a pointed glance at Jack. He gestured to the fire dragon that had kept him pinned while Prince Mallory had killed his men "Are you not man enough to face me?"

Prince Mallory's cheeks flushed. He muttered something under his breath and one by one the ghosts turned no longer caught in their endless loops but _aware._ They parted before him and swallowed him up as he walked back towards were Jack and Anna-Maria had been.

"Don't ye dare do it ye bloody minded idiot" Jack growled as he glared at the fire dragon in frustration. The specters fanned out along the rail and faded a bit so that the main deck was empty. Jack swore "Damn it all I told ye NOT te do that!"

The white dagger had been driven into one rail, the sword into the opposite one. Enough daggers to restock the shop had been piled just short of the bodies of Le Terrible's crew. Then I saw what Jack had realized instantly – Mallory had SHACKLED _himself_ with the chains I'd taken off of Jack. And they weren't the kind the Royal Navy used in Fort Charles either. He'd bound himself with his hands securely behind his back, his ankles were chained so close together that he was going to have to hop around the deck, and he had looped the length of chain that should have run between the ankle cuffs between his ankles and wrists. How the blazes was he supposed to fight like that?

"You like playing games and killing children" Prince Mallory mused "So let's play a game. If you can kill me milyn you can go free. If you can't" Prince Mallory gave him a darkly amused glance "then it will be my turn to play. No magic, no guns" The Comte cursed as his turned cherry red and burned through his sword belt to drop onto the decking "I know I'm a bit older than your preferred prey and far too good for your paltry milyn skills but I think the chains will even the odds a bit. Catch me if you can" he challenged as the dragon pinning the Comte vanished in a puff of smoke.

"No" Jack and Commodore Norrington barked as the same moment the parrot called "Becalmed." Sea started to form near the rail but Mallory rimmed the entire deck in a curtain of blue flame.

"He's worse than you" Anna-Maria muttered to Jack as the Comte charged forward his face a mask of determination and blood lust in the strange blue-white light of the flames. Prince Mallory hopped easily out of the way of the Comte's first bullish attack.

"I know you're only a milyn but honestly, you really must do better" Prince Mallory taunted. They danced across the deck with Prince Mallory always just barely out of the Comte's reach who finally seemed to remember that while his gun was still glowing his sword wasn't. I let out a little of the breath I'd been holding when Mallory put a bit more distance between them. At least he wasn't going to make it easy for the Comte to skewer him. I had to wonder how much time he spent practicing being tied up because so far he was more graceful while bound hand and foot than most people were unfettered.

"Mallory let me the hell out of here" Jack snarled.

Prince Mallory deftly hopped backwards up the stairs to the poop as nimble as any goat with the Comte sword drawn close behind. The Prince ducked two wild slashes and deftly tripped the Comte sending him tumbling back down the stairs. He then spun and gave Jack a speculative look "What's the matter, _Jacko_, don't like being held captive and helpless? Maybe you should have thought of that twelve years ago. At least I'm trying to _save_ your life instead of end it, brother" he spat in a tone laced with venom.

Jack flinched looking completely nonplussed and more than a little wounded but that didn't stop his tongue "So ye feel the need te play tit for tat? I never intended te get meself killed. Can ye say the same?"

Prince Mallory didn't get a chance to answer since the Comte came charging up the stairs absolutely certain he had the Prince trapped. Prince Mallory did a very tight back flip back onto the main deck. **_That_** was an impressive bit of dexterity with his hands bound like that. It made me wonder just HOW much he practiced escapes while bound. I also wondered if that dated all the way back to Mannwan or if it was inspired by Jack. Apparently the Comte was impressed too because he just gaped at the spot Prince Mallory had been occupying.

Prince Mallory cleared his throat pointedly "Down here now" he said while rolling his eyes and muttering something about bumbling idiots. "I would have thought all that practice of hunting children while their mothers watched would have made you a bit better at this. Apparently practice doesn't make perfect for some." This time instead of blindly charging the Comte took his time walking down the stairs while favoring his right ankle.

Jack's frustration was a palatable force in the air around us (I wondered if that because of his magic or not). "Don't you DARE get yourself killed" he said halfway between an order and a plea.

The Prince smirked back at him "I'll take it under advisement."

"I know you could have those chains off in seconds. Would you please at least free your feet?"

"But I'm having SUCH fun" the Prince quipped back. The face and voice where perfect but the eyes gave him away. I'd never seen such tormented, haunted eyes in my life. I glanced over at all the shades who stood completely unaffected by the flames, watching the Comte, watching him. No, Mallory wasn't having any fun at all. I knew the shades of those killed in battle didn't bother him but he very clearly was having trouble with the ones aboard this ship. He **_looked_** like a hunted, cornered animal and I very much doubted the Comte had a thing to do with it. Whatever else he might have said was cut off by the Comte's approach. This time Mallory led him a merry chase into the forecastle which was littered with his dead men. By the time they reemerged there were tears rolling down the Comte's face and his voice shook as he swore "I am going to flay the flesh from your bones with a spoon."

Prince Mallory laughed mockingly but he laughed too soon for he slipped on the blood slick boards and with both hands and feet bound he went down, hard. The Comte crowed in triumph as Mallory barely managed to stay ahead of the slashing sword. Jack tried to roll under the dragon and got his beads singed for his trouble as we all grew frantic watching Mallory worming out of the Comte's vicious attacks.

"Jack, cut off their air" I shouted.

"What?"

"Fire can't burn without air. Mallory said you're better than him with it. Cut off their air."

"Fire can't burn without fuel either, whelp, and that doesn't seem to be interfering with them."

"Just TRY Jack" what a time to argue!

"I AM" he retorted and suddenly every flame on the ship flickered and died. Then I felt the air leave my own lungs as Jack dashed past. I tried to call to him but I couldn't speak. Commodore Norrington, Mr. Not Cotton, Anna-Maria and I all stumbled past where the dragons had been just as they whooshed back to life and precious air flooded back into our lungs. We nearly ended up sending each other tumbling down the steps as we charged to the forecastle where Mallory and Jack were glaring at each other with the Comte bleeding between them.

"I did NOT and do NOT require your assistance, Captain Sparrow and I'll thank you to stay out of my way and out of my life" Mallory spat eyes blazing as anger temporarily overwhelmed all else.

"Ye didn't even really stumble did ye?" Jack growled "Ye were just getting a bit o' vengeance for all the scrapes I've gotten inte, ye bloody arse!"

"No, **_I_** am NOT a bloody bumbling idiot and unlike a certain hedonistic, short sighted fool of my unfortunate acquaintance I actually PRACTICE and DRILL on a regular basis. If vengeance was what I wanted you silly sot I can think far better means and better uses for you."

Jack went very, very still as he processed that for a breath "Could ye now? So what is it ye want brother?"

"I want you to leave me the hell **ALONE** but I have the common decency to make it a request instead of an order."

"And I'm te walk away and leave ye like this?"

"You forced me to leave you bleeding, broken, and alone with no knowledge of the monsters hunting you and with no defenses. I'm a little underfed and overwrought neither of which I require your assistance to rectify. So why don't you" he waved a hand and the walls of water and fire vanished leaving us with a perfect Caribbean sunset to port "just toddle back to the ship I built you and see if you manage to keep hold of her this time." Mallory turned his attention to the Comte who whimpered weakly, eyes fluttering, barely conscious but Jack grabbed his upper arm (I noted that most of his hand disappeared which showed just how 'little underfed' the real Mallory was. And given that he was the master of NOT being 'overwrought' this meltdown was probably tip of the proverbial iceberg of whatever was _profoundly _wrong with Mallory. Mallory jerked his arm out of Jack's hand and pushed him aside. It wasn't much of a shove (particularly considering Mallory probably could have sent him through the mast) but Jack looked as if he'd been dealt a mortal wound (and been stunned speechless). 'Never raised voice or hand to me' I recalled him saying about Mallory and in a matter of minutes he'd done both. "And if I intended to kill him outright I'd have done it myself." Mallory yanked the Comte to his feet who ran a shaking hand over his healed wounds "DON'T thank me" Mallory gave him a shark's smile "I have not yet meted out justice on thee."

I swallowed a yelp as arms reached round my waist. I breathed in Elizabeth's scent as I thanked all the angels in heaven that my wife was hale and whole.

"Dewch" he said and the ghosts pressed around up around, and in more than one case, through us. No matter where you moved there was another ghost. They were legion. How many had the crew of Le Terrible killed?

"You have reveled in these deaths. So, Death will not have you, Wind shall not touch you, Fire will not burn you, Sea shall not drown you, nor will Wind, Fire or Sea allow you to leave this vessel nor touch it until you have endured every moment of every death you have ever inflicted and until your Dead see fit to release you. Hunger will gnaw you, Thirst will torment you but neither will ever again be slacked again for as long as you live. "

The first ghost wrapped itself around the Comte. His eyes widened, he whimpered and dropped onto his side in a fetal curl, limbs twitching. Prince Mallory arched one elegant brow and nodded in satisfaction before glancing up at us.

"What are the rest of you doing still in this pit of despair?"

Lieutenant Gillette cleared his throat and stared pointedly at Jack.

"I think you will find, Lieutenant that if you want to keep that promising career of yours you will need Captain Jack Sparrow's help to retake Port Royal and Fort Charles."

"What?" That was the second time Jack and the Commodore had spoken in perfect unison today. That might be spookier than all the ghosts.

"I **TOLD **you to keep an ear on Marissa." Mallory said condescendingly "But you couldn't be bothered to listen, as usual, and now there's quite a mess to be sorted out."

"What did Marissa do now?" Anna-Maria asked as she slipped into the front.

"Marissa should have been a courtier." Mallory mused before sighing. You could see the haunted look creeping back into his eyes and he'd balled his hands together behind his back which is not a stance I'd ever seen Mallory in before.

"She used the note she had the Governor write just before the wedding to forge new orders for Commodore Norrington then informed the authorities here that you and he would be coming. Of course it never would have worked out this well without magical assistance."

"**You** helped set this up!"

"Not me, brother, **you**."

Jack blinked then shook his head sending his slightly scorched beads swaying "I didn't have a damn thing te do with this. I'm a mostly innocent bystander."

"And how would you know? I've spent my entire life honing my skills you've spent yours denying they even exist. The result is you do magic willy-nilly without even realizing you've done it. Do you have any idea how sick I am of cleaning up your disasters? Not this time, little brother, **you** helped get Port Royal sacked and taken by the French, **you **helped get the Dauntless sunk, now **you **can go try to set it right for a change."

"I'm not the bloody one who 'accidentally' cursed Barbossa and his crew of miscreants" Jack retorted his own temper flaring.

You could see Mallory gritting his teeth to NOT say something before speaking. No matter what he said though you could tell that he was keeping even more back. "Be that as it may, it doesn't change the fact that 514 members of the Dauntless' crew died today. It doesn't raise her from Davy Jones' Locker and I don't think you want to go THERE again which was another fine mess I had to bail you out of. And it doesn't save what's left of the garrison of Fort Charles who are even now being transported as prisoners of war."

Jack shrugged "What do I care about the bloody Royal Navy's difficulties?"

I wanted to hit him, I really, **REALLY** did. My home and my friends were in the hands of the enemy, Commodore Norrington and the Governor were likely ruined and all he could do was shrug.

"Get out of my sight" Mallory whispered "you selfish lamprey. I wish I'd left you on the streets of Tortuga." Then he turned his back on Captain Jack Sparrow

"I never said I _wouldn't_ bloody help. I'm **CAPTAIN** Jack Sparrow – I have te know what's in it fer me crew."

Mallory completely ignored him.

"I'm quite certain the Governor would be prepared to give you and your crew pardons for all previous crimes plus an equal share in all booty captured from the French" the Commodore offered.

"We have an accord" Captain Sparrow agreed. Jack shot a hopeful glance at Mallory but he made no sign that he had heard.

"The odds of our success would be much improved by your assistance and I would be personally grateful for your help" the words were formal but Commodore Norrington's tone was pleading.

"My apologies, Zander" the Commodore's expression was caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace "but I have a prior commitment."

"And that would be?" Jack asked but Mallory completely ignored him so I decided to make my own appeal. I kissed Elizabeth's knuckles before picking my way through the blood and other less easily identified bits on the deck. The whole forecastle reeked of death. I nearly slipped on something I didn't even want to think about but Mallory caught my arm and steadied me.

"Please help us" I asked, for just an instant he looked honestly torn and I thought he might agree but he shook his head.

"Wind, Sea, and Fire will be with you but I will not."

"Why not?" I asked and unlike Jack I got an answer.

"Because I have my own time to serve in Purgatory."

God, the haunted, hunted, tormented, grief filled, guilt ridden look in those green eyes made me want to say to Hell with Port Royal and dedicate myself to fixing whatever was wrong with Mallory. I wondered how much of that was my own wish and how much was Jack's. I hoped it was all mine own even if I couldn't do it. The people of Port Royal deserved more and to be brutally honest I had a pregnant wife and unborn child to think of and my entire livelihood was in Port Royal.

"I knew what the Comte was doing with this ship over a year ago and I did not interfere. Hundreds died because I did not act." Those hands he had locked together behind his back where shaking like leaves in a hurricane. "I have my own penance to serve."

Oh sweet Jesus, he had sentenced himself to essentially the same fate he'd dealt the Comte and I had no doubt that his sanity would not survive an extended stay on Le Terrible. I wasn't certain it was surviving a brief visit looking at him. I threw a desperate glance at Jack and then tried to talk him out of it.

"But you didn't kill them" I protested.

A shiver went the whole length of him "I didn't save anyone either." I could see him slipping away from us, not into empty darkness, but into the horror of someone else's death.

"That's more than bloody enough" Jack said snagging Mallory's arm. He actually managed to drag Mallory several steps before he seemed to snap out of the trance he was sinking into. This time Mallory just set his heels and from the look of things Jack would have had better luck trying to raise the Dauntless than budging him.

"Why won't you just bloody LEAVE?" Mallory asked sounding thoroughly exasperated.

"Did you?" Jack returned pointedly "ye bloody well know ye didn't, ye sneak. And Sea as our witness ye pulled me out of enough places I was perfectly content te be left in, so ye owe me this one if we're playing tit fer tat."

"Tit for tat?" Mallory's eyes narrowed and this time I could actually see those expressive ears flick forward and then flatten tight to his head just like a cat's might before it lashed out at you. "Tit for tat?" he snarled "I've worried, fussed over, and protected you your whole bloody life but you couldn't be bothered to spare a thought for me, Captain Jack Sparrow except to hope for my downfall until Bill forced you to summon me to do you yet another favor. Do you think I survived seventy years in the courts of Europe and Avalon and somehow couldn't recognize a devotee to **Indivia?"**

To who? I thought. "The goddess of envy" Elizabeth whispered in my ear.

"Like some damn harpy just **_wishing_**" I wasn't sure if he had really emphasized it or if I had just heard it that way knowing what I did. "For me to falter so you could sweep in like some hero to glut your already colossal ego. Well, damn you Captain Jack Sparrow. I won't break for you any more than I would break for our mutual sire or anyone else. Now get the HELL AWAY FROM ME." This was a much more forceful shove though he still hadn't put his full strength behind it but Jack would have fallen if Murtogg hadn't caught him more than halfway down. "I don't need any more of your _help_. If you want to help then go help you friends" he glanced at Elizabeth and I "get back the home you stole from them."

"I never meant te hurt ye" Jack protested.

"Captain Sparrow you might be the best human liar alive but I'm a damn sight better. Don't try to lie to me. It adds insult to injury. Now, go before I **do** return tit for tat."

"I'm sorry" Jack offered looking at once sincere and utterly confused.

"So am I, but I doesn't change a thing, brother."

I could see Jack thinking furiously trying to come up with a new angle. While Norrington and Elizabeth put their heads together. Normally I would be fighting Indivia myself but now I just hoped that the two of them would manage to figure out a way to get Mallory off this boat, ship, whatever.

"Lieutenant" Commodore Norrington began. Gillette snapped perfectly to attention. I had always wondered if he was actually good for anything else. He must be though because otherwise Norrington wouldn't keep him so close. "With Captain Sparrow's permission you will board the vessel heretofore known as Le Hercule as a prize crew, discover where the rest of the garrison is being held, secure their release, and retake Port Royal and Fort Charles."

"And where will you be?" Gillette sniffed. I absolutely hated that habit of his. Why of all people did HE have to survive the loss of the Dauntless?

"Right here," THAT got Mallory's attention, "Serving penance with the Prince."

"Absolutely NOT" this time Mallory's voice was rock steady. I hadn't noticed the tremors until they were gone. "You have a duty to England and to the citizens of Port Royal and you WILL discharge it, Sir. That. Is. An. Order."

The Commodore arched a brow "And what authority does a Prince of the Elves have over the Royal Navy."

"That of an Admiral in the Royal Navy thrice over and in the absence of a CROWNED Rigion king or the King of Avalon as the Crown Prince I have authority over all those claiming allegiance to any mortal land within the territory claimed by either the red or the white dragon, namely England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales in their entirety plus northern France and a the greater portion of the Netherlands. I HAVE the RIGHT to command you Sir James Alexander Norrington and you will under NO circumstances remain behind aboard Le Terrible."

"But I am as guilty of negligence in this matter as you are. I also knew of the Comte's deplorable behavior and did not act aggressively to put an end to it."

"He was not your subject" Mallory said in a tone of unshakable command "but he was mine. It was my place to put an end to his reign of terror, never yours. You are not guilty and you will not neglect your duty."

"The citizens of Port Royal are also your subjects" Commodore Norrington pointed out "and they need your help. It'll be like being back on the Dominant."

I winced when he mentioned the Dominant. He had actually been starting to get through to Mallory by invoking duty but he'd lost him again probably when Mallory thought of Captain Grey.

"No, it won't" he closed his eyes for a moment "I'm so bloody tired of people dying on me" he muttered so softly I barely caught it.

I could hear Jack's teeth grinding. I had to bite my own tongue to keep from saying something scathing. I wanted OFF this death trap and if I thought the entire lot of us would have any chance of success at all I'd try physically dragging Mallory back to the Pearl. Talking didn't seem to be getting us any closer to leaving either. Speaking of leaving how had Elizabeth gotten here?

Elizabeth now stepped forward with just a touch of a triumphant gleam in her eyes, "You still owe me a boon."

Prince Mallory inclined his head in acknowledgement "And what does Milady require?"

"We need to be back aboard the Pearl first."

"Oh, really?" Mallory said sarcastically clearly not buying what Elizabeth was saying for an instant.

"So your word is worthless?" Elizabeth mocked looking smug.

I shot Mallory a pleading look and he didn't incinerate her on the spot. Instead he wordlessly snatched something from around the Comte's neck, dropped it around his own, stepped onto a wave that rose obediently to meet him and said "Are the rest of you bloody coming or not?"

Half-way to the Pearl the wave deftly split us into two groups one bearing the remnants of the Dauntless to Le Hercule and they other bearing the rest of us to Pearl. Commodore Norrington tried to leap back onto our wave but they separated too swiftly and he would have been dropped into shark infested waters if a slender bridge hadn't formed and drawn him back to us. We all stepped quickly off of the wave and onto the ship. Elizabeth might consider riding one a grand adventure (though she stepped off just as quickly as the rest of us) but I found it more than a little unnerving. Jack was already muttering soothingly to his precious ship and yelling orders at his crew. Actually the Black Pearl looked nearly as good as she had when I left this morning clearly she'd given far better than she got.

"Jack!" Elizabeth shouted to get his attention.

"A moment, lass, me ship needs" she cracked him across the face. Delightful sound.

He looked at her in utter confusion as he rubbed his cheek "What was that for?"

"Forget someone?" she asked pointedly as all our eyes turned to where Mallory was still standing on his wave at the rail. Jack flushed nearly purple.

"Permission te come aboard" he muttered to the boards.

Prince Mallory faded to be replaced by the Shadow of man who had taught me, raised Jack, and sailed with Commodore Norrington.

"Would Milady be so kind as to state her desire?" again the too formal tones jarred with the look of a common sailor.

"Not until moonrise" Elizabeth said primly.

"Moonrise?" Mallory echoed while giving her a 'do I LOOK like an idiot to you?' glare and a 'you're stalling' glance.

"At moonrise" Elizabeth repeated firmly.

"So be it" Mallory said as he folded himself up on the deck by the rail.

Jack blinked "Ye aren't going te help repair Pearl?"

Mallory shrugged "The damage is minimal and your crew has it well in hand. Pearl has no need of me." And with that he curled in around himself showing every intention of ignoring us until moon rise. I shivered a little because it was the exact position the suffocating confines of the carchar had forced him to assume. Why on the Sea would he sit that way of his own free will?

Commodore Norrington sat beside him in his burned and bloodied uniform. I looked for injuries but from the way he moved either his wounds were minor or it was someone else's blood.

"If you go back to that ship, I AM going with you" he said "I'll resign my commission and become a landless pirate if that is what it takes but I won't let you go alone."

"Sir James Alexander Norrington, I spent all of my youth from the age of three learning how to kill and how to break men." The Commodore's eyes widened slightly but he didn't interrupt "This is a complement to your humanity Zander not a smudge on your honor but Le Terrible would destroy you as surely as Revenge destroyed the man you are named for." He shivered "And one James Norrington's death on my conscious is more than enough for one life time."

"So is one Mallory Adfyw's" Norrington replied in a voice like velvet covered steel "Do you have any idea what it felt like to watch them flog you? Followed by watch on watch? And not be able to do anything _honorable_ to help? I was willing to throw everything I ever worked for or believed in away to save you and instead you saved me and I threw you over the rail dead. Do you know how your 'death' has haunted me? Please don't go back to Le Terrible. You proved on the Dominant that you're made of the sternest stuff I have ever seen but I couldn't live with the thought you torturing yourself on that ship with only the Comte and the dead. Please don't do that to me. Don't go back."

Oh, well, **WELL** done James. I didn't dare _breath_ while Mallory just stared at the Commodore for several far too long moments before nodding once. "For the White Rose" he breathed softly.

The Commodore frowned in confusion but we couldn't help him there since we'd been wondering about that for days too. "Why did you let them do that to you on the Dominant?" That's right James keep him talking I silently encouraged. "You clearly didn't have to."

"Yes, I did or **HE** would have captured Sparrow. And I couldn't let that happen so I had to cover Sparrow's blood with my own. Sparrow's mother was human, his blood is quieter than mine. And nothing is as discordant as spilled blood." His hands had crept up to his ears "It weeps and it wails. Never quiet, never at peace." Norrington shot us a glance that clearly said he needed more information but he went back to trying to distract Mallory as he managed the impossible – he curled up even tighter against the rail. "I owe you my life, again."

Mallory stirred a little "I gave my word to do all in my power to protect you and yours long ago but if you're set on paying that debt, don't kill my brother. He may be a daft, feckless, mad man but he's the only one I have and I'd like to keep him, if you don't mind." You could see him dismiss us all and start to slip back into the death trance again. Damn, obviously just getting off of Le Terrible wasn't enough.

"Who was the White Rose?" Commodore Norrington asked quickly.

"The first friend I ever had. We met in 1537." If that surprised Norrington he didn't let it show as Mallory raised his eyes from the deck "You have his nose and his sense of honor, like all of his descendants, but you have her gentleness and her eyes. So did the first James Norrington, it's what that damn ship of mine used to destroy him. So brave, loyal, and true. Best second in command I ever had and I had to take him home to his father. How do you console a father who is convinced his son is damned to hell for taking his own life that even if it was his son's finger on the trigger the real murderer is a magic boat and an idiot Ellyllon prince too caught up in his own affairs to see what was going on under his nose?" We lost him then as he dropped his head to rest against his tight tucked knees. Norrington frowned again and leaned closer as if trying to hear something before rising and joining the little cluster of us not engaged in repairing the Black Pearl.

"How the blazes did he end up in this state, Sparrow?" the Commodore demanded in a low accusatory rumble. His gaze very clearly saying he had no doubts that whatever was wrong with Mallory was undoubtedly all Jack Sparrow's fault.

"We don't know, James" I wished Elizabeth wouldn't be so familiar with the Commodore but I didn't have the heart to chide her over it. "We've been trying to find out these last few days."

"He's saying something but I can't make it out" Commodore Norrington said with a worried glance at Mallory.

Jack sighed heavily "He's saying forgive me, over and over, in more languages than I care te enumerate."

"Then what **do** we know?" it was far more of an order than a request and I don't know how coherent a tale it was as we all offered various bits of what we knew. We were no where near finished when I shivered in a sudden chill. I didn't even have time to turn and look before Mallory tackled Meleri sending both of them sliding across the deck past us.

They were a writhing tangle of limbs. Mallory must be absolutely freezing since I was uncomfortably cold and I wasn't even all that close. Meleri shot free (Mallory's fingers had undoubtedly gone too numb to hold her) with Mallory hot on her heels. So hot that the two of them were mere blurs speeding about the Pearl's main deck. Mallory must have caught her again on the steps up to the poop deck because they came rolling down them except Mallory stopped dead mid roll, completely, well, frozen half-way down a step in an absolutely impossible to maintain stance. What the blazes had she done to him? I swallowed as the thought that she might have turned him to stone crossed my mind.

Meleri reached out and ripped whatever it was Mallory had taken from the Comte from around his neck sending several small white objects skittering across Pearl's black boards. Elizabeth picked one of them up and then gave a little gasp. I took a closer look and realized what I had taken to be a bead was in fact a child's tooth. Stubborn, stiff-necked fool. We'd taken him away from the horror of Le Terrible so he'd brought a bit of it back with him. Meleri's mad eyes locked on Elizabeth's as she very pointedly scampered to the rail and flung what was left of the necklace to the waiting Sea. Then she looked at Elizabeth again, then at Le Terrible, then back at Elizabeth who nodded, gathered up the bits that were left on the deck and gave them to the Sea as well. The two of them seemed to be hatching some sort of scheme without a single word being spoken. To my ever lasting relief she then dismissed Elizabeth as if she no longer existed and started to approach Jack but her approach was blocked by a fire dragon. She shrieked in undead frustration and turned to glare at the still frozen in place Mallory. She let out another ear splitting shriek and then waved a hand at him.

He nearly stumbled, caught himself, looked briefly confused, and then focused all his attention on her "Chwi gallu nis arglwyddiaethu Adarrto. Myfi ewylly darfod anad myfi gdael e anafu."

"Chwi cael dyled at Avalon taw tu hwnt gwaed" she said in that same velvet steel tone Commodore Norrington had used earlier.

"Dyled" he echoed sounding a thousand years old "Pryd cael myfi erioed myfi afradlon dyled?"

"What is she saying?" the Commodore demanded at a near whisper from Jack, who shrugged "Don't know El'lan mate."

"Chwi gallu dim guneuil hyn unig, dewr, ymwroli." Finally a word I recognized – ymwroli – take heart. Mallory gave no sign of taking heart in any way, shape, or form instead he sat on the steps and just shook his head. I had lived for years with a drunk and I'd never seen anyone look that dispirited but his voice was adamantine "Chwi gallu nis arglwyddiaethu Adarrto" he repeated "Caffailiad arall gwystl."

She sat beside him and you could see the frost creeping across the windows by the stairs. The fire dragon that had been protecting Jack curled itself by Mallory's feet.

"Sdim un arall" she said firmly but gently.

""Chwi gallu nis arglwyddiaethu Adarrto" he said again "Boddhan myfi gwneud dim adolwyn at lladd eto."

Was that last 'please, I don't want to hurt you?' from the look in the fire dragon's eyes I suspected my translation was right. Meleri sighed heavily, brushed a hand across Mallory's, and vanished. The fire dragon remained at Mallory's feet for a few more moments before returning to Jack and vanishing as well.

"I think I deserve te know what it is she wants with me" CAPTAIN Sparrow demanded.

"If you had bothered to pay attention to all the El'lan I TRIED to teach you, you could ask her yourself" Mallory said peevishly.

"And if ye had ever bothered te explain why it was so bloody important I might have" Jack shot back clearly NOT intending to back down on this point.

Mallory opened his mouth as if intending to continue the dressing down that he'd begun on Le Terrible but then all the fire seemed to bleed out of him and he answered instead "Our aunt is, in addition to being a very talented seer, a very skilled necromancer. She keeps trying to do" he shrugged "something to you. I'm sorry that I can't tell you what. She's trained in necromancy, I'm not, and I haven't a clue what it is she's planning. All she'll say is that I have a duty to Avalon that is more important than any tie of blood which isn't exactly comforting. She wants to make you pawn in the deadly game between our sire and I and I'll kill her again before I let her harm a hair on you head. The fire dragon will ward you against her even when I'm unavailable to directly protect you."

"In case it's slipped yer notice, little brother, I'm not the one who is still a child" Jack growled back.

"You're barely a fledgling, Sparrow, and I am ancient."

"Ye don't look bloody ancient" Jack retorted

"Looks can be deceiving" Mallory replied wearily "With a different sire I would undoubtedly still be the child I appear to be. I was warned long and well that I would eventually have to pay a price for allowing myself to become emotionally entangled with humans." He looked at us for what seemed like a small slice of eternity "But if I had it to do over or if I had been born a seer I still could not have abandoned my friends. My conscious would be cleaner but I've never been able to put duty above friendship not matter what it costs." He turned a little and nodded to the rising moon "The moon is up, Milady, what boon would you have of me?"

"Forgiveness" Elizabeth replied.

Mallory canted his head and I was glad for the Shadow since that crowned of his could be blinding when he did that "To the best of my knowledge Milady has committed no transgression against me sufficient to warrant"

"Not for me" Elizabeth broke in and she pointed to Le Terrible "For yourself, for them. You are punishing yourself for crimes you didn't commit. I saw it in one of your notes that the Sea's dead are quieter than any others. **You, **personally with your own abilities, send that ship to the bottom where you won't be forced to hear it on the Wind. At least take a first step. That is what I require for nineteen strands of my hair."

She had clearly caught him off guard "Milady asks a harder thing than she knows. Both because forgiveness is not a part of my nature and because I've rendered that vessel essentially indestructible." His brow furrowed as he considered his options. "Fire in opposition is the only likely way but there will be considerable backlash. The Pearl's wards will take the brunt but there will be no damage to her." He turned to Jack "With your permission brother?"

"What about ye?" Jack said.

Mallory shrugged "No permanent harm done but I won't be stirring until long past noon tomorrow. Best that you all clear the deck and cover your eyes."

Jack barked orders while Mallory seated himself on the black boards. The whole ship rocked under the loudest thunderclap I had ever heard in my life and I felt blinded even through my fingers. Elizabeth was off like a shot and patting down Mallory's chest before I'd even blinked my eyes clear. She made a little sound of triumph and raised the dragon journal over her head before clutching it to her own chest. She took a few steps away from him, then paused and looked back. "You really do need to forgive yourself" she told Mallory's bonelessly lax form "and you need to let SOMEONE help. If you were a little less stubborn we wouldn't have to go to such lengths."

She turned to face Jack "We don't have anytime to waste."


	24. A Lady, A Sparrow, and A Rose

Author's Notes: First and foremost, my apologies to everyone for this being SO very late, and a huge THANK YOU! to my reviewers. Lyn, thank you. Homonyms are the bane of my existence but I will try to keep a better eye on them. Cheorl, there isn't much James in this chapter but it _is_ largely about his family history and why Mallory is rather protective of him. In the interests of brevity (now THAT is a joke!) and in getting something posted I am going to hold off on the historical notes until part 2 of this chapter. Hopefully I'll do a better job on For the Sake of a Rose.

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 15: A Lady, a Sparrow, and a Rose (part 1)**

"Sparrow" Commodore Norrington barked.

"Captain" Jack barked back "**_Captain_** Sparrow."

The Commodore knelt, gathered up Mallory, and nearly stumbled when the weight was far less than he had anticipated.

"He's nothing but bones, **_Captain_** Sparrow."

"I **_know_**. He won't bloody eat. If ye want te try force feeding his prickly highness be me bloody guest. But personally, I'm more interested in discovering the root o the problem afore he wakes. Ta."

"You didn't actually intend to leave him on the deck did you?"

Jack went redder than his bandana "O' course not."

With one bounce of his eyebrow the Commodore called him a liar "Then where shall I put him **_Captain_** Sparrow. And which of your crew is trustworthy enough to guard him?"

"Put him in there" Anna-Maria said as she moved between them "that way I can keep watch on both him and the deck."

The Commodore laid him gently in the hammock and then appraised Anna-Marie clearly torn between going with us and standing watch over Mallory himself.

"The Pearl will protect him, Norrington."

"_Commodore_ Norrington."

Jack made a point of looking around in confusion "Odd, I don't see your ships, _Commodore._"

Norrington went paler than his wig. I thought for a moment that stiff naval exterior was going to crack and he would weep but he gathered himself and merely smirked a little in acknowledgement of Jack's barb. Elizabeth tapped her foot impatiently and both of them apparently decided snipping at each other was less important than what secrets lurked in Mallory's dragon journal.

"Elizabeth" I caught her arm "Please let me?" She thrust it into my hands.

I found myself a well lit corner and gingerly opened the cover. Nothing. That surprised me. I would have thought he would have had some sort of lethal protection on it which is why I didn't want Elizabeth to be the one to open it. I flipped rapidly through it.

"It's not exactly a journal" I said in surprise.

"Than what the bloody hell is it" Jack sounded thoroughly out of patience.

"Letters. In two separate hands early on" I swallowed "Both in ink in the beginning, then one in ink and one in blood. Then only one in blood." He had _never_ stopped writing to William Shakespeare not even after he was freed from the carchar, not even nearly a hundred years after his death. He had promised to write and he had written even knowing that the letters would never, ever be delivered.

The first letter wasn't in Mallory's hand.

_April 1603_

_My dearest Rhys,_

_Vale and well met good gentle! Troth thou must do to tell me how thou dost find thy father's realm? Art thou surrounded by the fairest of the fair? Or doth beasts of diverse forms…_

It occurred to me that if I read every single letter we would be here for days. I skimmed over the rest but it appeared to be an entirely a list of gushing questions. I was sorely tempted to simply flip to the end but we had all night and since we would likely only get one chance we might as well do this in order.

The next was in Mallory's hand. I had always wished my own penmanship was even a tenth as nice as Mallory's had been in the books he'd left me but they were plain, utilitarian things compared to this. Every pen stroke was a work of art far finer than anything I'd ever seen on the Governor's desk. Actually it was so intricate that it was difficult to read as I started though Mallory's voice floated in the air…

"_April 27th, 1603"_

A bright laugh echoed through the room.

_My dear Will, I told you ere I left that I would be some little while in the Archos a Draig. Your letter was here to greet me this morning when I finally arrived in my father's court like a breath of sea air from home. I suppose someday I will think of this as home but I do not think it will be soon. I start a little at the pointed ears and Dragon's eyes and the sunless, starless skies and even though I have only been gone a little while I miss the wild Sea born breezes already. I beg you to write me of all the news back home and I will fill these pages with all you could wish to know of the life of an Ellyllon prince. _

The words were cut off as I flipped the pages. I stopped in surprise when a Shadow of Meleri went scampering up out of one of them. I flipped back to it.

_July 13th 1603_

_It was undoubtedly one of the most petty and childish things I have ever done, Will. _

Mallory's tone was anything but repentant. Actually there was a certain malicious glee to it.

_But Lord Swyddogol is such a bloody insufferable git. And I'm going mad here. They put me in the BLOODY **NURSERY**. They gave me a sorry little pony I wouldn't inflict on a four year old dynol. Blast it Will I am an assassin, an admiral, and a general and I'm going to flay the next maid who tries to put bows in my hair alive! Swyddogol is the worst. I can NOT seem to get through to the fool that I am not a bloody infant. (Though given my behavior perhaps he's right). I do not need to be pampered and petted like some spoiled fop that's never faced anything more trying than tepid bath water. _

The Shadow of Meleri was scampering all over the cabin looking for all the world like she was spitting something out of her mouth and burying it.

_You know that old story about magic beans? The ones that can grow to the clouds in a single night? I found the spell to make them in a forgotten corner. Did I ever mention that Swyddogol is the Warden of the Gardens as well as the Master of the Royal Nursery? _

A breathtakingly beautiful garden took shape as the Shadow of Meleri scampered back into the book.

_Of course I didn't use beans. That would have been terribly unoriginal._

Plants exploded out of the soil and ran rampant over the garden.

_I started with stinging nettles and brambles but those also seemed terribly tame. So I created something new. I took my inspiration from all those Greek tales of chimeras _

A tree reared its head in the midst of the garden. Literally. Every branch was a leafy serpent.

_And all those sermons I was forced to sit through. I made certain that only a few of the branches were actually venomous. _

One of the main branches fanned its hood and spat at the line of what I assumed were Ellyllon gardeners approaching it. Where its spit fell the ground cracked and the flowers withered.

_I rather think old Swyddogol will be far too busy to meddle in my affairs for the next few decades. My aunt, Princess Meleri, was a great help. She's completely, totally, and utterly mad. I wish I had met her before I think I would have liked her a great deal, not that I am not fond of her, of all my family I like her best. I must go soon since it's time for my 'lessons'. I swear, Will, I learned more in a single year on my own than my age mates seem to have learned in all their lives._

I flipped past over a dozen more letters all dated 1603. They must have been writing weekly. I stopped when I spotted a change in Mallory's hand. This was no flowery letter but quick note clearly scrawled in haste, no Shadows accompanied it and it had no magic voice.

_Dear Will,_

_I've run into a touch of difficulty here and I'm not certain when I'll have a moment to write again but be assured I treasure your letters. Please don't stop writing even if you don't hear from me for sometime. Sea will hold them for me and I'll reply as soon as the crisis is over._

_Your Faithful Friend_

_Rhys (NOT Ariel) Penthalion, Prince of Avalon _

I read it aloud. "It's dated December 21st, 1604." I flipped some more pages "According to the dates on Will's letters there is nothing else in Mallory's hand for nearly two years." I stopped and blinked at the first letter written in blood. It couldn't be Mallory. It had to be, but this rambling creature that wrote in a nearly unintelligible scrawl was the antithesis of the man I knew. I flipped to the next letter in blood. This was the man I knew, sharp, witty, and tidy.

"Yer flipping an awful lot o pages, whelp, and not saying much" Jack noted.

"I know but most of this hasn't really been critical yet" I said defensively. I turned a few more pages and a

"**_NO!"_** roared through the room so loudly that the candles my father had lit danced.

"Mayhap ye should read that one" Jack suggested. I glanced at the date on the previous letter – June 21st 1610

"_No, no, no, no_" it continued and Mallory's tone took on a pleading note "_Please Will say it is not so. Dead, dead, dead, dead. And why? Because of some mad Catholic fanatic, just like Guile de Nassau who I also failed to protect. Good men both of them that I propelled into posts they never sought. I put them on the firing line and I failed to protect them. Neither of them ever wanted to be freedom fighters Will._

The guilt and grief rose from the page like a miasma and wrapped around the room.

_I'm sorry Henri. So sorry I wasn't there to stand between you and harm. I_

There was no break on the page but you could feel him have to stop and wrestle with his grief. My father claimed that courtiers had no loyalty but I sat holding a book full of letters written to a dead man by an Ellyllon who was cut to the quick by the word of the death of man who had betrayed him and tried to put a bullet in his brain. If that wasn't loyalty above and beyond the call I didn't know what was.

_wish I had never come here and not only because of my own condition. I should have found a way to fight the call of the Draigs and stayed at your side despite your insistence. Would that I had heeded the warning of your Dark Lady, Will. I should have forged a new identity and weaseled my way back into the circle of your defenders. You should have died old in your bed surrounded by your grandchildren. You should have lived long enough to have seen that damn chicken in every pot in France you were always nattering about. What was it all for Henri?_

The question whispered through the room, soft and haunting. Mr. Not Cotton's parrot circled the cabin before returning to his master.

_I thought I knew out there in the living world but here in the quiet of this box I've been entombed in I'm less certain. In the din where every waking moment provided a new challenge and a new crisis with no time to think it all seemed so perfectly clear but with my past my only companion…_

_Practically from the moment I set foot in the sunlit lands men's lives rested on my decisions and I am ashamed of many of my choices but here in the dark with only the sound of my own voice there were a few things I could always be proud of and you were one of them. I always considered that the price of tearing down the House de Valois and putting you in their stead was worth the blood it cost but your son can't be more than 10. What will happen during his minority? I can only hope that Anuion will count that my command to stay with you extends to your heir as well._

_I know all too well that you despise me and my kind but I will never forget what you proved to me. That it IS possible to be a good man and a good King. And I will always cherish what you gave to me. I didn't discover until I came here why Mannwan was always so frantic about my association with your kind. I am a diemwnt am tanio. You'd say a Diamond of Fire in English, Will. It's a type of enaid, the rarest type. Most enaids are amorphous things, swirls of color as variable as the clouds in the sky but not the diemwnt am tanio. Structured like the finest rock crystal and just as colorless of themselves. All the court gasped in awe when I was formally presented but the beauty they saw was not my own. It came from you, and Milady Latimer, and Sandro, and Mannwan, and Argellion, and Guile de Nassau, and all the others I held dear and took to dwell in my heart. I merely preserved it and reflected it back._

_I pray that your God appreciates the treasure he is getting and that you are as happy in your heaven as those preachers of yours promise though I doubt your God counts the prayers of a heathen Ellyllon for much. Goodbye my dear friend, farewell wherever you fare._

_I should reply to the rest of your letter Will, please forgive me but I haven't the heart for it._

I flipped pages scanning a bit here and there but they continued to be chatty things, the news of the world outside and Mallory's witty commentary on it. He asked about Gwyla and her family quite a bit but there didn't seem to be much in Will's letters about them. Undoubtedly Elizabeth, Jack, and Norrington would all find it fascinating but I was just looking for the highlights. The next letter that caught my eye was dated early 1613.

_Please Will, please, please don't stop writing. Your letters are the only tangible proof I have that I once walked in a world of air and light. That my memories are real and not merely the vain imaginations of a deranged mind. I've tried to send you word. You've no idea how hard I've tried. Please don't. _

The rest of the page was more pleading. My father fled the room mumbling something about giving Anna-Maria a hand.

The next letter from Will was dated September of 1614, over eighteen months of silence. What must that have been like for Mallory? To have thought himself abandoned by his last friend in that hole? I shivered and decided to read this one aloud besides instead of writing his reply as a separate letter he'd crabbed it between the lines like he had in the book and his absolute euphoria over this letter was a tangible presence in the cabin.

_Please forgive me Rhys _

_What grievance could I have against you Will? _

_I had no idea. I suppose I still have no idea. _

_Of what? _

_One of your kind paid me a visit. _

Menace rolled off the page. _Who was it Will? If they harmed one hair on your head they will rue it when I am free_.

_A gentleman who called himself Ffyddlon. _

_Whatever would he visit you for? _ I had a flash of an older Ellyllon with a narrow pointed chin, high cheekbones, too wide silver eyes, and short magenta hair.

_He explained he was banished from Avalon and had served you here_

_That was one way to phrase it. Ffyddlon wasn't quite the village idiot but I've had horses that I taught more tricks too. I've begun to equate silver eyes with mental deficiency. My father is silver eyed and mad as were Meleri and Eiluned. Of my grandparent's children Tintigalia alone was sane and she was green eyed like my grandsire and I. None of them are half-wits like Ffyddlon though. I always wondered how he'd ended up banished. He was too stupid to have done anything and too loyal even if he'd been smart enough to even think of betrayal._

_And that he and others like him (Rhys you NEVER mentioned any of them!) do maintain some links with Avalon. The rumor is that your father, unable to break you through torture or magic has locked you away until you are willing to yield to him._

_Not in a thousand years. Even if it means I live the rest of my whole bloody life in this damn box._

_Ffyddlon says all that is known is that you are alive and that no one has seen or heard from you in nearly ten years. He also says that my letters are going somewhere and that I may very well be your only link to the outside world. I pray for your sake it is not so. I pray that clever, clever creature that you are that you have merely slipped the net and are planning something appropriately nasty in response._

_Lovely day dream but unfortunately no, I didn't manage to slip the net._

_I am horrified at the thought that I may have left you completely alone for more than a year. I can only plead ignorance and beg forgiveness. _

_Forgiven. Now tell me what's going on in the world outside._

_You must have felt even more abandoned than I did when Ailell left me_

_Oh, Will you had (for that matter I had) no idea just **WHO** was playing court to you. From what I read in the library your Dark Lady is a force to be reckoned with. Pity she didn't see fit to get me out of this but then I suspect she isn't currently even on this planet._

I stopped dead on that one and looked up at Jack who shrugged looking as confused as I felt. I got the feeling he was filing that tidbit away for the future.

_Should she falter or fall I doubt even your God could save us Will if what Meleri mumbles is true. I did on the other hand learn how to kill that weasel Wilson. Let him cross my path again and I'll gladly take the little ferret's head. He won't revive from THAT death like he did the other two I dealt him. Quit dithering and tell me something or I shan't forgive you!_

_but that is old news._

_Very._

_Gwyla married Jacob Paper last week. I think you would approve though you do have some rather odd notions about love and marriage. They seem quite fond of each other. And since I'm certain that you're positively squirming _

_Unfortunately there isn't enough room for that._

_for the fashionable details. The bride was radiate in white silk and pearls (which one has heard on good authority you left behind in secret as a wedding gift) offset by the reddest of roses. _

_Good colors for her. Particularly since her skin is several shades darker than the pure fish belly white that is fashionable so the white would look fair indeed though in Moscow they would think she was in mourning._

_And even you would have approved the menu._

At the mention of food the **_hunger_** that I hadn't noticed before in the background roared to life, a raging, violent thing, ripping. I flipped pages. We knew Mallory had been starving in the carchar, there was no need to dwell on it. Something made me stop on one dated early 1636

_They came again last night Will and I am all but out of clever tricks. _

You could taste the fear in his words.

_I have no intention of yielding. I will NOT be bested by these foul minions of HIS but sometimes in war battles are lost and what I will lose in this fight are pieces of my soul. I have no idea what that will do to me nor to the light of others that I have gathered. I don't know if your heaven exists, Will, for your sake I hope it does but if it doesn't then your words and the reflection of you I hold in my own soul may be all that remains of you. That what I have preserved of you, Milady Latimer, Jane, Henri, Sandro, and all the others might be devoured by those monstrosities chills me to my marrow. I have thought long and hard since I turned back their first attack and have decided that the pen (in theory since I'm writing with a sliver of my finger nail) **is** mightier than the sword. I never, ever would have considered writing an autobiography before this and in truth there is much that even now I am loath to put in writing but it must be done lest I loose all. _

_But were to begin? You will undoubtedly think that thirty years in a box has driven me mad Will but there is yet a method to my madness. I will begin this tale in Moscow 1525. Yes, Moscow, a place that no Ellyllon in Avalon but I has ever seen. One fine spring morning in that year (so goes the story I have been told) the Grand Prince Vasilly III (he was merely the Grand Prince for it was his son who coined the term czar but I'm getting ahead of myself) was walking in his garden and saw a bird feeding its chicks and he was deeply shamed for he had no child to leave his kingdom to. He determined that he needed to set his wife, Salomonia, aside and he was very sad for she was beautiful, gentle, devout, and loving. The Patriarch of Jerusalem cursed the Grand Prince pronouncing "If you should do this evil thing, all that comes of it shall be evil. You shall have an evil son and he shall make your nation prey to terrors and tears. Rivers of blood shall flow from his hands. The heads of the good shall fall. Your cities shall be consumed by flames." I wonder sometimes if the Patriarch had a bit of Old Blood because his prophecy or curse was eerily accurate. Vasilly's son was named Ivan better known as Ivan the Terrible. Bess made sure that most of my reports were never made public but until I set foot in Avalon I never dreamed there could be a worse king. _

_Vasilly was hardly the only king fretting about the succession and planning to do something drastic to ensure it. As you well know in England Henry the VIII was already toying with the idea of setting Katharina aside. It would take him seven years and ultimately he would change the entire course of a nation. There were diverse signs and portents in the spring of 1533 that made the whole of England nervous and fearful. A great fish of a kind never seen before and measuring over ninety feet beached itself on the north coast. The next day the tide flowed in for nine straight hours. As a result the Thames rose higher than it ever had in living memory washing across the steps of Greenwich Chapel. That night ball of fire larger than a human head flashed through the country and for three weeks a comet appeared every morning before dawn. Many and dire were the prophecies about Anne Boleyn's son. Except that he was a she and she became the one of the best 'kings' ever born. So much for prophesy. Besides the signs and portents in the spring of 1533 had nothing to do with Bess and everything to do with me._

_A third king watched them with his ancient eyes. He too was worried about the succession for he was old and near death but it was not the lack of an heir that concerned him but rather the nature of said heir. He saw the signs and realized that a child of great power had been born. A child capable of touching Sea and Fire even in infancy. It is said that he and his mad seer daughter spent the better part of a year in close conference. Meleri would never tell me what plans they laid in the first year of my life I only know that when they discovered that I existed they chose to send me as a Changeling to Thomas Cromwell who was of the Old Blood. His only talent was the ability to see clearly straight to the heart of any matter and through any Shadow._

_There was a Lion in London in those days and I do not mean the ones in the Tower menagerie. He went about roaring and seeking to devour anyone he could. He glutted himself on both the innocent and the guilty. They say that in his youth the Mouldwarp was a good man and a good king and that when he was knocked senseless in the lists for hours in January of 1536 he awoke completely changed. Perhaps he was a good man before. I can not say for I did not come to the courts until February but I do not think so. I think the fall merely shattered the mask he had worn heretofore. Regardless he was an erratic master with a vicious streak and a tendency for petty cruelty. I served him only indirectly for I 'belonged' in my earliest years to Thomas Cromwell. Cromwell had a clear vision of what he wanted and the ends always justified the means but there was no pettiness in him, I will grant him that much, nor was he ever 'needlessly' cruel. He could (and did) order many slain but never with pleasure nor without what he considered just cause but he never shrank from blood letting either. I saw little of these two masters in my first year in England for Cromwell in his turn delivered me to Skeffington who could also see through Shadow. Skeffington knew nothing but cruelty and by the end of six months in his care neither did I. In the miserably wet fall of 1536 arguably the greatest crisis of the Mouldwarp's reign occurred. Much of the North rose in a rebellion called the Pilgrimage of Grace. I was not quite four when Cromwell ordered me to wrap myself in Shadow and command a squad of pike men against the rebels._

I found myself once more seeing through Mallory's eyes as Shadows filled the cabin.

_I shifted a little trying to find better balance lest I find myself under the hooves of my steed. While the horse was even tempered to the point of mindlessness he was also broad as a beam which meant I was practically doing a split to straddle him. I wished again that the Lord Privy Seal had found me a smaller mount even if that meant a friskier one. Every muscle below my waist complained. I had ridden before but never for so long. I flicked an ear forward listening for the clamor of the armed camps which would at least let me guess how much longer this particular torture was going to last but all I heard was the bleating of sheep. I wished there was some way for me to actually direct it instead of just passively listening. I nearly slid under the horse when one of the breezes actually turned a little but I lost it when one of my men fell out of formation. Stupid git. I gruffly ordered the column to keep moving and whirled the horse. I watched the man leaning on his pike as if too exhausted to stand on his own two feet for a split second and then charged him. If he was truly unable to go on then I had no use for him and his death would serve as an example to the others if he was merely malingering, well, Skeffington had taught me how to deal with that too._

_His brown eyes went impossibly wide as the big chestnut draft horse that I was clinging to somewhat precariously thundered down at him. Unfortunately for him the gelding wasn't very fleet of foot and he managed to dodge. Malingering then. I didn't weigh much but with the extra momentum from the horse my feet in his chest were enough to knock the breath out of him as he went down hard. The chestnut stopped almost as soon as I left his back finding the yellow grass along the road much more attractive than trying to escape. My Shadow appeared to be leaning over the prostrate soldier, in reality I was perched on his chest. I doubted he'd notice my slight weight especially when I put a very small but very solid fist into his face. I'd discovered that while I wasn't as strong as a full grown man I was a lot stronger than a child my size should be. I'd learned in my first weeks in the Tower that if I didn't defend myself no one else would and I'd learned how to hit where it hurt. It was easier with him already down. It was hard to properly punch someone twice your own height. No that I didn't manage. Necessity is the mother of invention and all that. I pummeled him until he was bloody and dazed adding a few swift kicks for good measure. I pulled a length of rope from behind my saddle and after looping one end around my stirrup I securely bound his hands in front of him. I shoved his pike alongside my saddle confident that nothing would rattle my plow horse. It took me a second to find something to use as a mounting block and to wrap it in Shadow. I cursed Cromwell again for saddling me with a horse so tall I could walk under his belly with my hands stretched up over my head. Mounting up was like scaling a damn wall. _

_He came out of his stupor quick enough when I started dragging him. I reined in the horse (who was only too happy to stop again) just long enough for him to get his feet under him and then kicked my mount into a dispirited trot forcing him to jog alongside._

_By the end of an hour we were far ahead of the troop, his tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and I was beginning to drag him in earnest. I briefly considered dragging him to death but that might be excessive. When I stopped the horse he didn't even notice and kept shuffling until the rope jerked him to his knees. He stayed there swaying in the dirt. _

"_Come here" I barked._

_He rose on shaky feet and stumbled to me, eyes suffused with fear in spite of the fact he could barely stand. Perfect. Since he was broken there was no need to kill him._

"_Since this is your first offence I will be lenient." _

_To cover any differences between me and the real Peter Darby his regular troop had been given a severe case of the flux. Instead of his grizzled veterans I had a grass green levy that was anything but enthused about the idea of fighting for the King. Of course we weren't going to **fight** we were going to **spy** on Sir Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk but they didn't know that. They were just my cover. The stupid farm boy just blinked at me too exhausted to even think. I cut his hands free and he crumpled to the turf, curling around his battered ribs. I poured a little water over him and then dropped the skin where he could reach it. He pathetically mumbled something that might be a thank ye. I slid down the gelding's shoulder and let him graze while waiting for the rest of the troop to catch up. This should impress upon the rest of them the need for obedience. _

_My ears flickered as I heard someone approaching on the wind. I scrambled back up the horse and glanced over my shoulder glad to see my troop coming round the corner as I turned to face the newcomers galloping down from the north._

_They hauled up their own mounts in surprise. By the cut of their clothes and the quality of their mounts all three were gentlemen but the wild eyed older man in the middle was a lord. But was he a rebel or a king's man?_

"_I am Lord Latimer" which helped me not at all since he was one of the Lords I'd been ordered to watch, one whose loyalty was in great question._

"_Sir Peter Darby" I replied while giving him the proper bow from the saddle._

"_You and your men will come with me to Snape Castle immediately."_

_SNAPE Castle! I shouldn't be anywhere near Snape Castle. Ice spread through my veins. I'd gotten LOST. Milord Privy Seal, Thomas Cromwell had thought me too young and untried for this but Sir Skeffington had assured him I was more than ready. Then he'd taken me aside and informed me that if I embarrassed him he'd make what had happened to the real Darby seem like heaven. I shivered, knowing that the real Darby would never see the light of day again Skeffington had had no restraint, no barriers. I'd seen what was left. I would be better off slitting my own throat than failing. My primary mission was to ingratiate myself with the Duke so that Milord Cromwell would be well informed but Lord Latimer (among others) was also part of my assignment. _

"_These are uncertain times" I retorted. I was questioning a lord, I didn't have the authority to question a lord but I didn't dare let my men and I be taken by the rebels either. I was now the northern most outpost of the highly scattered royal army and deep in rebel territory "What does my Lord require?"_

_I kept the Shadow's eyes flinty hard to match his crusty warrior exterior but inside I was trembling. I might hold the title of Lord Tallyrand but it was a shame. Cromwell or Skeffington could destroy me in an instant by revealing that I was a Changeling and then I would burn. I was no one and nothing and there was no one to defend me from them. _

The fear that accompanied that thought surprised me so much I was actually thrown out of the tale. Mallory **AFRAID** of **fire**? And then I felt like a fool. He was THREE. He clearly had no idea who he was or what he was capable of. Or was he even capable of it yet? He'd said himself that power increased with age. Sweet Jesus what kind of monsters do this to a child? I delved back into the not journal.

"_The rebels are threatening my wife and children" he snapped and fear bloomed through his enaid. I believed him. I'd gotten very good at seeing lies. But what the rebels did to his family was irrelevant._

"_My apologies, milord, but I have orders to support the Duke of Norfolk with all haste" the Shadow I presented was firm but the draft horse complained about how tightly I was holding the reins._

"_You have to pass Snape to get to him" Lord Latimer was clearly out of patience and I was even more lost than I thought. I determined then and there to never be lost again. Since there was no graceful way to deny Lord Latimer and having him in my debt might prove useful I snapped orders to the men as they finally arrived. I poked my malingerer with the butte of his own pike and he used a tree to haul himself up. The rest of them looked properly cowed. I nodded to milord to lead the way. Their smaller, fleeter palfreys leapt forward leaving me to lumber behind on my big draft horse. My troops were a footsore, sorry lot. It had never been intended for them to actually FIGHT. If we actually ran into trouble at Snape…? The bits of Peter Darby I'd picked up when I took his place assured me that it wouldn't be pretty. _

_I NEEDED to know what I was up against. I knew Cromwell had a 'wind talker' on his staff. I could hear Wind (which at the moment was blowing me news from the completely wrong direction. I didn't care at all what some shepherd was doing with his flock or that there were owls, foxes, and deer watching us. I knew there were no threats behind us but I had no idea what was ahead.) could I speak to it? I urged the big horse a little farther out and whispered a request. The result was stunning. For an instant there was silence and then pandemonium._

"Good God" Commodore Norrington's voice temporarily broke the spell. The poor man looked more than a little ill and pale. That had been rather loud. Elizabeth and I had already had our first encounters with life through Mallory's eyes and more importantly ears but poor Norrington was new to this. I kept my finger in the journal to mark our place and closed it to give him (and the Governor who looked even worse) a minute.

Jack gave me an annoyed glance "What did ye do that for, mate? It was just getting interesting."

Jack on the other hand lived with the racket and probably had no clue why the rest of us had to fight not to put our hands over our ears. I decided that since we all knew Mallory had mastered 'wind talking' we could skip a few paragraphs for the sake of those of us who weren't half-Ellyllon's sanity.

"Is it just me" Jack asked "or could me brother benefit from a set o spectacles?"

Between the talking air, enaids, and diverse comments from Earth and Sea I'd been far too overwhelmed to notice but now that Jack brought it up Mallory's vision did seem a little fuzzier than my own. Not close up but once you got perhaps 40 feet away the acuity dropped sharply. Perhaps dragon's eyes didn't see as well? It would certainly explain his problems with distance weapons. He saw far better at night than any human though so it wasn't as if dragon's eyes didn't have their advantages. I decided that I'd let Jack be the one to suggest glasses.

I glanced back at Norrington who gave me a grim but determined nod. I decided we'd start back up with the arrival at Snape hopefully by then Wind would have quieted down a little.

_I couldn't make up my mind if it was a good thing that the rebels had moved on or not. According to the Wind (which had continued to excitedly swarm around me), they were a relatively small band. I would have lost some of my pike men but Cromwell or Norfolk might have been pleased with a 'victory'. Or not. It was impossible to tell. The entire situation was a disaster. Thirty thousand men had flocked to the Pilgrimage's banner and the king couldn't even field a third of that and those were scattered. Lady Mary might well find herself on her father's throne within a fortnight if the rebels were serious. It would be a simple matter to find and slaughter the separated battalions and all I could report was that NO one knew which side Lord Latimer was on including Lord Latimer._

_Who builds a manor in a bog? (To be fair in most years it might not have been in a bog. The old men at the Tower swore they had never seen so rainy a year. It was as if, they said, something was calling the sea to the land). My steed's great oversized hooves were sucking mud with every step as the plain, stone hall hove into view. My men were a filthy mess. I'd even gotten a touch muddy on my perch. I told myself Skeffington was days away and that while for some reason my Shadows couldn't fool him he couldn't hear Wind either so there was no one to tattle on me. I would simply have to see to it that my clothing was in good repair ere I returned to the Tower. One of the men stumbled and took his whole bloody column down into the muck with him. I decided I'd beat him when we got into the Manor since I was less likely to end up a muddy mess myself that way. Except that Cromwell's wind talker might be watching… in which case I was already in for a beating for getting lost. I settled for cursing them, their parents, children, wives, and any livestock they might own. _

_The bits of Peter Darby I'd brought over to smooth the transition didn't approve of the way that I was treating the men at all. Cromwell and Skeffington had both insisted that 'little elf maggots' like me could take on the faces and some of the nature of others but I still wasn't sure I'd done it right and having stray thoughts that weren't mine banging around in my head was most disconcerting. Disconcerting. Four days ago I would have had no idea what disconcerting meant. I'd never heard the word spoken aloud but it was now part of my vocabulary (which was yet another new word) and they were hardly the only ones. Would I lose them when I dispelled the Shadow? Or was I going to have a little piece of Sir Peter Darby forever? _

"He bloody cheated" this time it was Jack who interrupted things. "All that time he spent making me learn all those bloody languages and whatnot and he just picked it up!" Jack was actually on his feet and looking none to pleased.

"Jack" Elizabeth said in exasperation "Yelling at him while he's unconscious isn't going to help."

Jack glared at her but he also sat back down.

"_John!" A tall, well-dressed woman called sounding deeply relieved. I shivered as she came towards me. Every instinct howled at me to flee but Cromwell had told me that human ladies did not eat children and I had been ordered both to stand my ground and charm them. Even if Skeffington couldn't watch I was willing to bet Cromwell's wind talker was listening. I did stay on the horse though that way if they were wrong at least I'd have a better chance of escape. If nothing else the chestnut was ambulatory hillside. _

_Lord Latimer on the other hand had no such worries and hurried to what I assumed was his much younger wife. _

"_Are the children" his question trailed off as a lady and gentleman barely younger than his wife appeared and his enaid brightened until I had to squint against the glare. Interesting, hold the family and you hold the loyalty of Lord Latimer. No need to tarry here any longer._

_I cleared my throat in a vain attempt to gain Lord Latimer's attention. I shuddered but held my ground as I caught Lady Latimer's eye instead. _

Commodore Norrington shifted uneasily under our stares. Now we knew just _whose_ eyes he had inherited. After five intervening generations (how did I know it was five?) it was the only feature they had in common. But knowing how Mallory felt about Milady Latimer that was probably enough to ensure that the Commodore would enjoy his favor come Hell or high water.

The Commodore brushed ineffectively at his ruined uniform "Is there some reason for your regard, Captain Sparrow?"

"Just noticed yer enchanting green orbs, mate" he waved a hand toward the deck and I supposed Anna-Maria, "Mind ye, generally, I prefer the kind of dark eyes a man can drown in but I'm finding green ones more appealing o' late." He finished by batting his own lashes a touch.

Commodore Norrington flushed nearly purple and sputtered.

The Governor leapt to his rescue, "Captain Sparrow, we must have misunderstood, you couldn't possibly wish to stray from you lovely new bride." His mien was a perfect blend of avuncular concern and gentle censure. My father-in-law might be a complete loss in a battle but he did have a talent for diplomacy.

But before Jack could retort (and from his golden grin I suspected it was going to be something salacious) Elizabeth snapped "Stop baiting James, Jack. We both know where your inclinations lie."

Jack winked at Elizabeth lecherously "Ah, ye had yer chance at Jack, lass. Ye've made yer bed and ye'll just have te lie in it."

How DARE he! I started to rise but stopped when Elizabeth cracked him hard across both cheeks.

"You're despicable, Jack" both her tone and eyes bled contempt and Jack seemed to deflate a little under her eyes "Stop trying to belittle James and Will to make yourself feel better."

It was a very chastised Captain Jack Sparrow who nodded for me to continue.

_She bared her teeth at me. I cringed but held my ground._

"_You and your men must be weary, if you have come all the way from London" there was a strange, mad gleam in her eyes. The bits of Darby contemptuously informed me that she merely looked kind and she was smiling not baring her teeth. Kind? What was kind? But there wasn't enough of Darby to answer that question leaving me to muddle through on my own. "I will have space found in the hall for your men and a chamber prepared for you."_

"_Milady is very kind" I didn't know what it meant but had no better word to use. Hopefully it was not a grave insult. "But we have far to go and no wish to be an imposition." I started to turn the chestnut (no easy task since he'd caught wind of the stable and its promise of oats) but she laid a hand on his muzzle. _

_I wanted to strike her but she was a lady and I was a 'little elf maggot'. I didn't dare but I didn't want to stay here either. This wasn't where I was supposed to be and if the rebels returned I doubted this manor house could hold them off for long. It was no Carlisle or Skipton and Pontfrac, one of the great bastions of the North, had already fallen into their hands. I couldn't afford to be pressed into rebel service like so many other members of the gentry had been. _

"_While you and your trusty steed may be tireless, your men are mere mortals. Have mercy on them, please."_

_She seemed very eager to keep me here. Was it a trap? Or was she simply frightened and believed my men and I could protect her? It was nearly dark and there was rain in the air again. The road was almost as much a bog as the countryside, if I left now I would likely only end up even more lost in the moonless night. It would take magic to start a fire with the sodden wood and we would likely spend a miserable night in the open._

"_My everlasting gratitude for your hospitality, Milady" I slid off the chestnut and nearly crumpled as a great wave of fatigue washed over me. I fought to maintain the imperviousness of the shadow of Sir Peter Darby. I stood on tiptoe and gallantly kissed her knuckles as I had been taught hoping desperately that she wouldn't notice that the angle was all wrong. _

"_Martha will show you to a suitable chamber so that you may prepare for supper."_

_Tempting, so very tempting, but I must behave (at least a little) like Sir Darby and he would never take his ease before his men or his steed._

"_An Milady permit it I must needs look to my men and my steed ere I take my own comfort."_

_Her enaid brightened. And I was momentarily nonplussed, had I done something amiss? She bared her teeth at me again most disconcertingly and personally lead my men and I away while a groom came to collect the chestnut gelding._

_Settling the men seemed to take days since this bizarre creature seemed intent on giving each one a 'kind' word. One and all they brightened in her presence despite the fact that the bits of Darby informed me that she was not beautiful. I found that odd since I could watch her amber and pearl enaid forever. It was the loveliest thing I had seen in my admittedly short and heretofore confined to the Tower life. Like the sun the soft golden light seemed to warm everything in sight but it did more than just that. I had no words for the strange emotion that seemed to enfold anyone in her presence. What remained of Darby whispered that it was peace. Another new word I had no context for. So she was peaceful and kind but what did that **mean**? _

_I steeled myself as she turned back to me still baring her teeth except that I suddenly realized it truly wasn't a prelude to attack and as the gleem of her enaid washed over me I was suddenly light headed. It was like stepping out of the bowels of the Tower into the noon day sun. Part of me wanted to flee from Lady Latimer even more than I had from HER, part of me wanted to live the rest of my life in her glow. I stood transfixed caught between terror and enchantment._

"_Sir Darby since your men are comfortably settled will you allow me to show you to your room?"_

"_I would follow Milady to Hades" I said smoothly but as the light seemed to banish all of the shadows in my own enaid I shivered realizing I might actually mean it. What kind of power did this woman have that she could entrap us all so easily?_

_Will alone kept me on my feet as I followed her to the guest chamber, muttered something polite, and collapsed into the feather bed._

_When I snapped awake the moon was already high. My stomach growled. Apparently I'd been allowed to sleep through dinner, or more disconcertingly, they hadn't been able to rouse me. I slipped from the warm blankets and flung open the wind to better hear the Wind. **Something**, had pulled me from a sound sleep. I muttered a few of the Tower guards' favorite curses. I'd KNOWN I shouldn't have stayed here. The rebels were returning. I pulled my less than clean clothes back on and practically flew down to the hall my men had been billeted in mind racing._

_The cross of the Pilgrims and the cross of St. George on the royal regalia were more than a little similar. Could I use Shadow to make them believe we were rebels? Skeffington was going to kill me and what he was going to do to me before didn't even bear thinking about. I trembled my heart hammering fit to burst. I couldn't afford to fail, couldn't, could not, COULD NOT. So how did I turn this disaster to my advantage? _

_I slammed the doors into the hall open as hard as I could. Wind amplified the sound and then swirled back around me as if looking for my approval. Interesting. _

"_Look lively" I bellowed and the Wind took that too and split into little breezes which carried my voice to each of the men so that it sounded like I was bellowing in their ears. They swirled back like a pack of hounds coming to heel. _

_It has been so long long, long, long the multitude echoed the first, strongest voice Since one like you has been here_

"_But Cromwell's Wind Speaker" I began in a soft whisper._

_Not the same, not the same at all not, not, not, the multitude insisted each voice conveying a different emotion, some anger, some sorrow, some things for which neither I nor Darby had words. We are pleased you are here and then it flitted away._

_Fascinating but not critical at the moment, critical was surviving the charade I was about to perpetuate and then finding a way to convince Cromwell not to feed me to Skeffington in pieces because Lord Latimer and I were about to join the rebels for the sake of Milady Latimer. I was **so** dead._

_Lord Latimer came scrambling down from his chamber about the time I marshaled the men into the courtyard._

"_Sir Darby?" it was half question half growl._

"_A large contingent of rebels are nearly at the gate" I snapped back and winced I'd spoken too fast again. I repeated it at a slower pace. _

"_You are deploying your men to protect the castle?"_

_I shook my head, "This is no Skipton. These men have already take Pontefrac." He blanched at that, he hadn't known "If we make a stand they will kill us all either by sword or fire. We must be quick and clever to fool them into thinking we have joined their cause."_

_Lord Latimer's enaid was a whirlwind, until a golden gleam brushed gently over it. Milady's enaid was agitated with fear and worry. That would NOT do, that would not do at all. But even frightened she exuded that strange peace. I knew it wasn't going to be alright but just standing in her presence slowed the frantic beat of my heart._

"_John Neville" someone bellowed just outside the gates. I glanced at the men. The Shadows were holding, if they didn't give anything away they would appear to be garbed in Darcy's badge instead of the King's. I had ordered them to keep their mouths shut and while they were green as new grass none of them had a death wish. _

_Lord Latimer frowned thunderously at hearing his name instead of his title being shouted by some commoner. _

"_Thou art a saucy villain to address me so Hallman" he barked back from one of the windows._

"_Yer pardon, but I've heard thet ye be against us, and no man against what's right deserves te be called a Laird."_

"_Thou hast heard amiss" he glanced at me and I nodded "Sir Darby has spent this night arguing thy case and I am ready to stand with the Pilgrims."_

"_Sir Darby?" Hallman's eyes narrowed in the light of the torches carried by his men. I counted at least 600 men, more than Snape's poor defenses could hold. It was so across the entire north. _

_Which was further proof (as if it was ever needed) of what a piss poor king the Mouldwarp was. Every major castle of northern England had been allowed to fall into disrepair so that the Mouldwarp could play. I will freely admit that I adore fine silks and velvets and that I can spend weeks crafting exquisite baubles but NEVER to the detriment of those under my protection. That the Mouldwarp not only squandered the wealth his father had accumulated but also the immense riches he gained from the dissolution of the monasteries on NOTHING but his own petty toys is beyond reproach. The piece of excrement couldn't even be bothered to pay his men or to feed them._

Mallory's disgust was a presence in the cabin.

_But I digress and both my time and my space are in short supply. Suffice to say that we convinced Hallman of our sincerity by taking (the really quite eloquent if terribly naive) Oath and immediately riding south for the fallen fortress of Pontefrac, leaving Snape and Milady behind. After a brief parley we were assigned to the vanguard along with the majority of the gentlemen. The commons took one look at the absolutely pathetic royal forces and immediately wanted to attack. If they had done so they would have marched all the way to London without significant resistance. They could have toppled the Mouldwarp right off his throne that day except they missed their opportune moment, because of me._

Pure annoyance now, directed at himself.

_If only I could See the future how many of my choices would have been different. Of course, I might simply be as mad as Meleri was._

Real grief, and a wash of shame, _I never wanted to hurt her, Will. I should have been able to do SOMETHING. _ A flash of blood, so much blood and then you could feel him force himself away from his memories of Meleri and back into the more distant past.

"_We need to strike now and strike hard" that sounded like Hallman but I couldn't see a thing. The real Sir Darby would have had no trouble but I didn't even come up to the rest of the men's waists._

"_We do not know the extent of the King's forces" that might have been the one eyed Robert Aske. "Nor will I commit us to bloodshed if the King can be persuaded to be reasonable."_

"_Then why are we here in full harness if we have no intention of fighting?" someone else snarled. _

"_To prove to his majesty that we are serious and if he will not treat with us then we will march, but I, for one will not lead us into civil war if the King will see reason without blood shed. Ours is a Holy cause and I do not believe that God wants us to slaughter our southern brethren without at least attempting peace."_

"_You stay" I hopped, trying desperately to see who was speaking "But I and the others will press our case to the King - in person. Let God judge which of us is right."_

_Bloody hell, Peter Mewtas had arrived yesterday with the Royal artillery which he had deployed along the high ground along the old Roman road from Lincoln to York. He thought that by covering the only bridge into Doncaster he had effectively thwarted the rebel advance. The problem was there was a ford just out of sight of the guns. The rebels could easily out flank the royal forces and take the entire royal artillery. With it and the rebels' massively superior forces even the Tower would not stand. The only reason the great bastions of Scarborough, Skipton, and Carlisle had stood was because the rebels currently had no artillery._

"_Can you hear me?" I whispered to the Wind and it swirled around me eager to please We hear hear hear._

"_Can you make it rain?"_

_A long pause._

_There is rain away to the north, would you like us to bring it to you?_

"_Yes, with all possible haste, as much as you can!"_

Malloy's mental voice took on a sardonic humor.

_I overdid it. It rained for days and I ended up thinking Wind was far more reliable than would later prove to be the case. The Don was impassable for weeks. I had one hell of a time getting myself and my men out of the rebel camp and back to the royal forces. By then my assignment, Thomas Howard, was heading south to report to the King. Fortunately I was able to bring back enough information about the inner workings of the Pilgrimage that I was ordered to report directly to London. _

_I toyed with the dagger on my belt. Would the intelligence I was bringing back and the raising of the Don be enough to off-set the fact that I had gotten hopelessly lost and had ended up, at least briefly, joining the rebels? Or would I be better off slitting my own throat now before I gave Skeffington the pleasure? I had very little time left to make decision for we were nearly to the Privy Chamber where I would have to give account to My Lord Privy Seal, Thomas Cromwell, my master, and HIS master, King Henry VIII. _

_I drew a deep breath and then stepped into Presence Chamber. While the Duke gave his report first, as was proper for a Peer of the Realm I observed the King. I had heard much of the King's prowess on the joust field but if the great hulk on the throne was still winning it was because no one had the intestinal fortitude to unhorse him (or perhaps once he'd been block and tackled onto a horse no mere lance could defeat the lard). I was about to dismiss him when I looked at the beady little eyes glittering in his overstuffed face. The Lion of London might be old, ill, and overstuffed but he was still dangerous. He reminded me of Bob, one of Skeffington's favorite guards. One day sweet as buttermilk and the next he was peeling the flesh from your bones and giggling. This was a man who would lure you in, suck you dry, and spew you out. I resolved to have as little to do with the King as physically possible. I wondered why all of the prisoners in the Tower were all so desperate to speak to this man? Didn't they understand he was the one who had sent them there? But then the rebels seemed to think that if they could merely speak to this man all the ills of the nation would be undone. Looking at him I could not imagine why they would think that, clearly very few had ever met him._

_I bowed deeply when it was my turn to speak. Darby had been a plain spoken military man but something in my gut demanded that I hedge a few things and weave in a little flattery though the situation was dire. One-eyed Aske alone held the more fiery members in check but he also was the one who held the more moderate elements to the cause. Kill him and they would fall away, kill him and the hot-heads would march with in the hour. The only question was how many would march if he died? I tried to impress upon the King the desperate need to play for time. I had never seen a winter but none of the old soldiers were eager to campaign during one. _

_When I was finished the blue pig eyes flickered to the Earl and to my Lord Privy Seal "I can not treat with these rebels, they must be crushed" he rumbled._

_Had he heard **nothing**? Even I could see the nation hung by the slenderest of threads. The royal army was hungry, demoralized, unpaid, out numbered by more than 3 to 1 and quite ready to join the rebels. In point of fact if the rebels had managed to take the Royal Artillery the King would already likely be a prisoner in his own Tower. My Lord Privy Seal understood even if the King didn't, maybe I wouldn't be fed to Skeffington. _

"_Sir Darby" this from my Lord Privy Seal, "Go to my chambers to await further orders."_

_I skulked from the room. I thought I had at least won points on raising the Don. I went to the great map of England that adorned one of the walls and swore then and there that I would NEVER be lost again. Never, ever. Which meant I needed to learn navigation, which meant I needed to learn to read as soon as physically possible. I pulled one of the thinnest volumes from the shelf, settled myself into one of the ornate chairs, and opened it. I knew Darby could read but try as I might I could make nothing out of the scratches on the paper. _

_The candles were stubs and I'd leafed uncomprehendingly through most of the shelf before my master, the Lord Privy Seal returned. _

_Distant, cool eyes regarded me, weighing, measuring, "That is an excellent idea."_

_I blinked at him in confusion._

"_You would be far more useful to me if you knew how to read" he said and as he settled himself across from me. His enaid looked exhausted but he kept it from showing much in his mien. He took the book and turned it "It might be easier if you held it right side up."_

_I could feel my face flaming. The marks on the paper made no more sense to me now than they had a few moments ago. This could not, must not, continue. _

"_Knowledge is **power**" he said and I whole-heartedly agreed. The lack of it might yet put me under Skeffington's knife._

"_You have the potential to go far, boy. Further than you can even dream. You have the raw talent and a certain inherent wisdom but you lack the knowledge and skills to use them fully. I will make you an offer, boy, power for power and knowledge for knowledge. As I am certain you heard up north I am the son of a mere blacksmith yet here I sit second only to the King. No one knows the art of statecraft better than I. As your master I will teach you all you need to know to become an accomplished courtier as my apprentice you will use your unique talents at my bidding to assist me. Do we have an accord?"_

_He put out one meaty hand and as I looked into his cold brown eyes it struck me that he bore a striking resemblance to a bull-mastiff. I didn't like dogs and I didn't like him but that was irrelevant. I needed knowledge and an alliance was the price. My hand disappeared into his chubby paw and I bared my teeth at him._

"_At dawn you will report to Robert Ascham who will oversee your lessons in reading, writing, and languages. By mid summer I will expect written reports and reasonable progress in learning Latin, French, Spanish, Italian, Welsh, and whatever it is those wild Scots and Irish babble by May."_

_I gulped and blinked at him. I was still struggling with English and he wanted me to learn seven languages in as many months!_

"_Five months ago, boy, you were the wildest creature I'd ever seen and already you speak cleverly enough to manage the Lion of London. I am not expecting full fluency but I will be expecting you to keep those sensitive ears of your pricked for word from all directions"_

_His mien was anything but cold now, it was so damn hungry I had to restrain a shiver, "Now, young one, you played the Lion, don't presume you can do the same to me. Tell me EVERYTHING." The brown eyes narrowed, "Don't forget the Old Blood flows in my veins, I may not be able to speak to the Winds, or weave Shadow, but I always know a lie. And I will not allow you to lie to me child."_

_I gulped and started. I didn't flinch when he backhanded me, hard. I'd learned better than to duck. _

"_Speak so you can be understood, boy. You may be galloping through life at twice the normal pace but you do that in front of the wrong people and they will burn you for a witch." He tossed a white handkerchief at me and I blotted the blood from my nose and lip. If it had been Skeffington I'd made that mistake in front of I would still be getting thoroughly thrashed but Cromwell didn't do it to be cruel. He did it to make a point; better a split lip as a reminder than an angry mob._

_I began again, using the dragging dead time to compose my next sentence, making certain that the grammar and pronunciation were perfect since I had no desire to feel the back of his hand again so soon. _

_When I finished he studied me, enaid revealing his weariness but his sharp brown eyes were still alert, bright, and eager. "How much control do you have over the weather, boy?"_

_I shrugged, I had no idea. _

"_We aren't ready for a pitched battle. We have to make it too unpleasant for anyone to even consider a campaign. Can you make it cold, brutally cold?"_

_I licked my lips and mouthed very softly "Are you still there?"_

_hereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehere echoed from everywhere._

"_Would you be so kind as to do me another favor?"_

_I could feel them waiting "Do you remember where you brought me rain?"_

_Yes yes? Yes_

"_Could you get the coldest air you can find and take it there?"_

_A moment's hesitation and then it felt like all of the air had been sucked from the room as Winds dispersed. _

_And in that moment the Fell Winter of 1536 was born. Rivers that hadn't frozen in living memory froze solid still in full flood. I really, REALLY have no business meddling with the weather. As much as it wounds my pride to admit it I'm not good at it. Any decent Wind speaker can predict weather in their sleep but to get good, consistent results is not easy. The one salve to my pride is I've never heard of anyone doing it well. I was far too young and inexperienced then to realize the consequences of what I had done and I gave it very little thought later but here in this bloody box with nothing but my memories for company I have taken to listening to all the word Wind brought me and I am mortified at all of the grief and hardship I inflicted both upon the common folk of Europe and the completely innocent birds, beasts, and plants. Consequences, Will everything we do has consequences and if they rip all else from me may I never forget that. _

_Troth Will it pains me to recall that I was once such a sniveling little coward. That the be all and end all of my life was groveling before that pathetic swaggering bully Skeffington is beyond embarrassing. I loath even committing it to paper but the point of this narrative is (one desperately hopes) to preserve something of who I was lest my Sire's nasty little minions take all I am from me. A life, like a tapestry, is not made up of only the strands we like and my situation is dire enough without me attempting to only set down which I am proud of ( a depressingly brief list in any case and useless without context). But I digress and both time and paper are in short supply._

_His lips curled and his enaid thrummed with the same pleasure Skeffington took from breaking a man's mind and body. "Boy, you and I will go far together. Now, this was your first time away from Skeffington and the Tower Guard, you must have many questions."_

"_Lady Latimer" I began, for she confused me mightily and had never been far from my mind since our brief encounter "The remnants of Sir Darby thought she was kind. What is kind?"_

_He considered me for several breaths. "It is the most pleasant and insidious form of torture." He leaned forward eyes utterly earnest "Everyone, **EVERYONE**, regardless of what they say is trying to increase their wealth and power but power comes in many forms. Women like Lady Latimer are subtle creatures. They give you what you want, smiling, they offer no obvious threat while like a spider they spin webs about you. The poor unfortunates so trapped never realize the danger, on the contrary they will lay down their lives to protect the creature that is slowly sucking them dry. Altruism is a myth, compassion is a lie. No one really does anything for free. It's all about guilt, positioning, and **power**."_

_I shuddered in horror. I had so narrowly escaped! I would be FAR more cautious in the future._

_What a gullible idiot I was. I had blissfully forgotten that I was ever that naïve and I could have happily lived the rest of my life without remembering that particular moment. He played me like a bloody fiddle. He needed me isolated and dependent on him and I swallowed his line so deeply it's damn near a miracle I ever found my way free of his web._

I skimmed the next few pages which dealt mostly with various mechanizations surrounding the Pilgrimage of Grace, advancing Cromwell in the court, learning to read, meeting Elizabeth for the first time (my own Elizabeth would likely be quite angry with me if she knew I skipped it), betraying several men to their deaths, and learning the finer points of interrogation and torture.

"Hard aback" Mr. Not Cotton's parrot said from directly above me. I scooted a little to the left just in case it decided to fling and glanced down at the page I had been about to turn.

_I considered my next move carefully before moving my knight and then looking to my Master for approval. He glanced over the board and nodded. _

"_Good move, boy."_

_I fought to keep my ears still and the flush from my face. It wasn't just the move on the chess board. I had successfully completed the dissolution of one of the more resistant monasteries without resorting to bloodshed which would have undoubtedly aroused sympathy for the abbot and his monks. Instead with a few rumors and a few Shadows I had completely ruined the monastery's previously pristine reputation. The abbot had been lynched by a mob of what had been his staunchest supports. I contemplated the implications of the new position of my Master's queen while savoring the praise and recalling how the unfortunate abbot had still been protesting his innocence when he'd done the hempen jig. As my wise Master said, guilt and innocence were completely irrelevant, all the mattered in the end was what a man (or elf) could or could not do. He who could sway the mass best would always win, and the masses were asses. They were terribly fickle and ludicrously easily deceived. _

"_Skeffinton isn't sure that you are ready for my next task"_

_I glanced up from the board ready to protest._

"_But I think you are."_

_This time I did flush in spite of my best intentions but I did manage to keep the elation of this highest of compliments from my face. _

"_I live to serve" I bowed as I moved my bishop._

_By the Draigs, Will I can't write any more of this. God what a pathetic little sycophant (and psychopath for that matter) I was. If it hadn't been decades since there had been anything in my stomach I would be ill. No mind of my own AT ALL. Granted I was all of five and Cromwell had watched me like on of his hawks the entire time to make certain I knew only what he wanted me to but still. Ah bloody hell, if I'm not completely honest this whole bloody exercise is pointless so…. _

"_What would you have of me?"_

_He passed me a small, nondescript chest. Could it be? It was. Sadler, Cromwell's assassin had been teaching me the finer points of killing quietly. This kit meant I was finally ready to kill for my Master. I was picking up a garrote to test when he set **it** in front of me. It was such an exquisite dagger I didn't feel worthy to touch it. _

"That was my father's dagger" the Commodore barked in surprise. He flushed a bit under our gazes. "My apologies Mr. Turner, it startled me. In spite of everything that has happened today and aboard the Dominant somehow seeing the dagger that was lost with my father makes it all so much more real. Please do carry on."

_I'd never seen metal like this before. Both blade and pommel where dusky black to blend into the night, troth the only flash about the thing were the glittering green eyes in the dark dragon's head that formed the grip. But for all its plainness you could tell it was the work of a master and honed to lethal edge. _

"_The elf who brought you here left it for you"_

_I was stunned. My Master had never mentioned anything about how or why I was in his care. Suddenly I was much less keen on the dagger. That blond bastard was the one who had caught me. He never would have managed without those freakish hounds of his. Damn dogs! I licked my lips tasting his blood on my teeth again when I had savaged his arm. _

"_to be given when you were worthy of it."_

_It was as if the blade was meant for me. Now that I had touched it I could feel it calling to me. _

"_Was he my father?"_

"_He is a servant of your grandsire" my Master replied._

_He must be the ancient elf the blond had taken me to while I was chewing holes in his arm. I could easily see a resemblance between us and we had identical, piercing green cat's eyes. Just like the ones in the dagger. There was high born blood in my no matter what Skeffington said about 'little elf maggots'. Probably bastard blood, but still high born. I wrapped my left hand around the hilt._

"_In whom shall I sheath it?"_

_My Master deftly removed one of my knights from the board with his own "I find Culpeper's loyalty to be sadly suspect of late. You will ride north and give him my fond regards. He is currently visiting Lord Latimer at Snape. Do NOT get caught and make certain the body will not be found. Assume his place. Leave now." _

_He passed me the letter which would be my excuse for the journey north. I belted the dagger around my waist and picked up the coffer containing all of the tools I would need as the Lord Privy Seal's new 'negotiator' and settled the Shadow of John Thorpe about me since Lord Tallyrand was far too young to be riding about the countryside alone. I sniffed, I was no suckling babe like that brat Bess even if we were nearly the same age. All the Shadows I had worn during the last year ensured I was far more mature than some silly child like her. _

_I wrinkled my nose as I passed Sir Ferret Face in the hall. If anyone's loyalty was on shaky ground it was Sir Turncoat Thomas Wriothesley's but my Master seemed blind to his faults. I skulked past him annoyed that I couldn't sheath my new dagger in his gut. Not that Thomas Culpeper was much better (either of them since both brothers had the same name). _

_The gate had its usual crowd of alms seekers trying to look as pathetic as possible. Since there were a fair number of 'good folk' on the street this morning I couldn't kick any of them out of my way. The masses were asses but actions like that would be taken all out of proportion and reflect badly on my Master. Instead I smiled indulgently and tossed out a few small coins that I was given for just such occasions. My Master had explained how important it was to maintain the façade of compassion. Particularly given how much the poorer commons resented his rise to power. That had confused me until Master had explained. People were taught to know their place, taught that God had placed them all in their proper stations. Master had risen above his proper station from blacksmith to second most powerful man in the kingdom. To the fanatics his ambition marked him as rebel against God's foreordained plan and Satan's tool. To the more moderate he was living proof that they didn't HAVE to meekly accept their station, and thus, if they failed to rise the fault was not in their stars but in themselves. It was envy that made them sullen. To be ruled by a noble or a king was proper, it wasn't their fault, but not a blacksmith's son, that was a horse of an entirely different color. _

_Speaking of horses, woolgathering while the alms seekers fought like the savage beasts they were over the shiny bits of metal I'd tossed into their midst was NOT getting me any closer to either the stables or the north of England. Master said there was no such thing as kind, that it was all a sham, and everything I had seen in the last year had bourn his words out as truth. Every 'kind' act I had seen HAD had an ulterior motive and yet my mind insisted on returning to Lady Latimer. So, I would ride north, kill Culpeper, and finally put to rest this notion of 'kind'. I had to force myself to slow down when it suddenly struck me that Culpeper was near Lady Latimer. He and his brother had openly raped more than one woman going so far as to have their retainers hold them for the act. So far the fact that both Cromwell and the Mouldwarp favored them and that the women had all been commoners was the only thing saving them from disgrace or worse. I was NOT rushing off to that witch's rescue I told myself very firmly, besides neither of them had ever acted with the least impropriety towards any lady of substance._

_And that's a damn ironic thought considering what happened to the remaining Thomas Culpeper later. _

There was a certain smug glee to the 'Mallory in the carchar's' mental tone and I had to wonder what happened to the raping high-born bastard. From the equally smug look on Elizabeth's face, the slight grin on Jack's, the prim yet satisfied look the Governor was wearing, and Norrington's little smirk those who knew their history well enough to know what happened approved. I went back to my reading and made a note to ask if it wasn't mentioned later.

_Though what happened to the largely innocent Dereham was completely uncalled for and yet another example of the Mouldwarp's twisted justice that slaughtered far more of the innocent than the guilty. But, again, I digress._

_So, while Snap had been built on rather low ground for a manor it wasn't always a bog which was good because I had come to loath mosquitoes. Otherwise the house hadn't improved from my last visit. It was still a disaster to defend. I could only assume whoever had constructed it found the prospect of invasion unlikely. And to make matters worse, the gates stood wide open. Who were these people to leave themselves so nakedly vulnerable?_

_Sting, my goshawk, shook her head wanting out of her hood. I ignored her as I nudged the palfrey mare through the arch and into the garden. I HAD to find a better way to hang my bow before the return trip because the current arrangement was deucedly uncomfortable. I stiffened as I felt her behind me as warm as the summer sun after a bleak winter. What a strange power the woman wielded! I slipped from my mount and bowed deeply. _

"_John Thorpe, at your service, Milady Latimer. I was told I could find Sir Thomas Culpeper here."_

_She smiled at me and I wanted to melt in a puddle at her feet. It wasn't the smile itself but warm light of her enaid. I firmly reminded myself that I was NOT going to be ensnared in this spider's web._

"_Sir Culpeper and my son have gone to Thirsk but should return sometime tomorrow or the day after at the latest." Lord Latimer said from my right. When I moved to remount he offered "Unless your news is urgent please stay. And even if it is, you are more likely to miss them riding out now than waiting here."_

_The Pilgrimage had taken a great deal out of John Neville, Lord Latimer. He'd aged a decade in a single year but his enaid had lost its frantic distress and he echoed the welcoming peace of his wife. His blue-green light didn't have the potency of her gold. He was the moon to her glorious sun. I been sent here to kill the younger of the Thomas Culpeper brothers but since I was here I wanted to put this whole strange notion of 'kind' to rest. What better way than to observe it at leisure while I waited for my prey to return? The letter was merely a summons back to the court. I would make the actual kill in some convenient lonely place between here and the verge of the court._

"_I have no wish to presume" I began but Lady Latimer cut me off with another of those spine melting smiles. _

"_We are pleased to see you and would be very glad to have you tarry with us for a few days." _

_I studied her enaid more closely than I'd ever watched anyone in my brief life and I would bet my life she wasn't lying. She didn't know me from Adam and, quite frankly, aside from being one of Cromwell's lesser errand boys was essentially a nobody. Of course more than one man had made his fortune on so thin a connection to the court but Lady Latimer's own brother William (who was a courtier to the bone) was a gentleman of the Privy Chamber and Lord Latimer was himself of Neville. Neither had any need of some minor soul in Cromwell's service. And yet they might, William Parr was popular enough in the court but a pall still hung over them from Pilgrimage. And I might have the ear of Cromwell, reason enough to curry favor. My world now set right I turned the palfrey over to the groom, my effects to a servant, while taking my hawk on my fist. Since I might be hunting her here I might as well let her see the place so I struck the braces and slipped her hood off. _

_She glared at me, eyes suffused with hate. My Master was a great lover of both archery and falconry. He considered the art of manipulating and deceiving birds to be both a wonderful metaphor for what he did to people and excellent practice. Being a Wind Speaker I took the more direct route, if a bird dared to disobey it was dashed out of the sky. The birds might hate me but I didn't spend entire afternoons sweet talking them down from trees either. She ruffled her grey and silver feathers in resignation having learned the hard way there was no escape from me and took a look around as Lady Latimer herself led us to a guest chamber far too rich for the likes of John Thorpe._

"_Dinner is at dusk" she said as several maids fluttered around the room "You may rest here or come down to the gardens if you like."_

"_Milady is very kind. I have a bit of correspondence to see to so I will join you for dinner."_

"_Then I'll have Marie bring you something from the kitchen."_

"_That is most kind but I will be fine until dinner."_

_She gave me another smile and when she left the fine room it seemed a shabby, colorless place. As soon as the last of the maids had left I wrapped myself in Shadow and slipped out the window and down the wall. Given that I was actually a touch hungry I made my way to the kitchen first, besides the best backstairs gossip always seemed to find its way there with what even I considered impress speed. _

_I slipped into a quiet corner after flinching a small pastry fresh from the oven. I made certain none of the piping hot apple juice found its way onto my clothing while listening to kitchen help singing. Not gossiping, or shouting, or cursing, but singing (slightly but not horribly off key. My music master would cuff me for singing this poorly but they weren't hopelessly bad). I decided to wait until my theft was discovered, perhaps then they would show their true colors but apparently no one cared. I decided to try the gardens next. I had never in my life seen such happy, contented people._

_I know I make it sound as if I'd fallen in among saints and I suppose you could even say I had but they were people, good, kind, gentle people. In time I would discover that there are quite a few good, decent, kind people in the world, Will, but Cromwell had made quite certain that I hadn't met them. If he had kept me exclusively among the monsters for a few more years I might never have believed in kindness or compassion but either his need was too great or he thought like a well manned hawk I was already too well trained to ever refuse returning to the fist. Of course the court IS mostly monsters because good, kind, decent people don't tarry in the court. If they are wise they FLEE back home, if not they either stop being good, kind, gentle people or they end up devoured by the predators. The Mouldwarp used to call Katherine Howard his 'Rose without Thorn' because she didn't own a single predatory instinct and we both know what happened to her. Of course cuckolding the King is beyond stupid but the truth is she was a gentle, guileless girl and death is the kindest fate in store for doves in the halls of power. I was accustomed to living in and among predators who spent every waking moment trying to either use or devour each other and while I wasn't a Draig yet I was quite the little asp in the grass. Snape turned my whole world on its ear. No one comes to the court except to advance themselves, it's the whole bloody point NO ONE in the court is content with their lot, it's all about jockeying for position but in Snape from the stable boys to Lord Latimer everyone knew where he fit and was (compared to the court) content with his lot. No one was looking to profit from anyone else's fall and while the house had its spats by and large everyone was LOOKING OUT FOR EVERYONE ELSE. I could see it in the enaids. I knew that I had either fallen into a madhouse or there was a completely different way of living, of being, than the one I knew. I couldn't sleep that night lying in the softest bed I had ever been privileged to lie in, staring at the painting above the bed and trying to make it all fit somehow in my mind. The moon had long since set and it was nearly dawn before fatigue finally stilled my racing mind._

_A shrill discordant chirping woke me before the sun had even cleared the horizon. Far beyond surly I went in search of the source of the incessant racket. Sparrows, a thrice benighted nest full of bratty little sparrows was just out of easy reach. Well, MY easy reach but no trouble at all for my goshawk. I altered the Shadow of John Thorpe so that he was dressed and pulled the bird off her perch. She wouldn't fit through the narrow windows so I made my way down to the gardens. I couldn't speak to birds at least not as I might to a person but I could feel her indignation at being sent after such tiny, insignificant prey. I cared no more about her indignation than I did her hate I demanded only her obedience. The mother sparrow died instantly never knowing the talons were coming before they wrapped around her. The little male protested but the larger goshawk ignored the tiny irritant as she ripped into the nest. One of the chicks dropped out of the nest stubby little bits of wings flailing in a vain attempt at the flight it was weeks from achieving and I casually plucked it out of the air before the bloody little thing could besmirch shirt._

"_You caught him"_

_I nearly jumped out of my skin. Wind was supposed to WARN me long before anyone came that close but Wind was strangely silent in a sort of expectant hush as Lady Latimer crossed the courtyard with two nasty greyhounds flanking her. _

_I shrugged "He's just a little sparrow."_

"_Not even a sparrow falls without God caring."_

_I thought, whatever lady, but didn't say it._

_She made a little sound in her throat as she looked at the ugly, just coming into pinfeathers, blood soaked nestling cupped utterly still in my palm. Her enaid dimmed like the sun suddenly covered in clouds and I was frantic for it NOT to be MY fault. I desperately willed the ugly little thing to live if only to please the woman in front of me. I could hear my Master's voice telling me about the webs women like this wove but I didn't care I just didn't want her to be sad because of me, didn't want her to ever be sad. Something happened, something magical, something that I was going to have to delve into more deeply later. He gave a little peep and regarded me with one beady black eye before putting his weary head back down. _

"_Don't die" I whispered to him as commandingly as possible at that volume. No human should have been able to hear me but she did and I had the sudden notion that Wind was conspiring against me. _

"_I have some special seed I feed my parrot chicks if you want to try to save him" she smiled at me clearly pleased and surprised "but it won't be easy."_

_I would walk over hot coals smiling if she would keep looking at me like that, taking care of a little sparrow couldn't be that hard. Cromwell had never looked at me like that, ever. I followed Milady Latimer out to the mews leaving my goshawk to finally fly free. _

I had noticed that certain memories had far greater intensity. Since we didn't have a fortnight for this I skipped the parrots, dinner, and the return of Thomas Culpeper from Thirsk since none of those memories had the 'edge' that the ones with the sparrow had had. I started reading again on the next page.

_I glared bloody murder at the little bird in my shirt. 'A little sparrow couldn't be that hard' were beginning to become famous last words, well not really words since I hadn't actually said them aloud but I'd certainly thought it. I was beginning to seriously consider killing the obnoxious little thing if for no other reason than I had yet to think of a good reason why I was returning with a not-yet fledgling sparrow in place of a damn good hunting hawk. It wasn't as if Lady Latimer would ever know. Odds were I would never see the woman again. I had seriously considered 'running away' and staying at Snape but just as I had kept the goshawk against its will Cromwell would surely come looking for me and he would destroy Lord Latimer and Milady in the process. Best for all concerned that I return to where I belonged and put all these strange notions behind me even if life at Snape was very tempting. Some people lived in palaces and some in hovels. My life was my life and I had only two days left to kill Culpeper before missing goshawks and mouthy sparrows were the least of my worries. Except I suspected that Milady Latimer would even be less happy that I was about to kill a man than she would be if I killed the sparrow, and I didn't want to do something that would disappoint Milady even if she never knew about it. But if I didn't I would have to face Cromwell and Skeffington, a daunting notion at best and Cromwell would likely blame my failure on Milady. _

"_If you hold her for me, I'll hold her for you" my companion offered with a ribald leer._

_I glanced up at the shepherdess ahead of us and then glanced at the utterly abandoned country road we were on. I pointed up ahead "There's a little woodlot up ahead that would be more…private, let's ride ahead and wait in ambush."_

_He flicked his tongue across his lips in anticipation and kicked his beautiful dapple grey stallion into a gallop. I half-way wished my mare had been in season, the stallion would make a much better stud than the man riding it. My mare was half the horse his was but given my feather weight she almost managed to hold her own (clearly to Culpeper's surprise). We circled the horses into the copse of trees and I realized what perfect spot this was for my first kill. Thick undergrowth completely blocked any view from the road and the trees were actually hiding the entrance to an old burrow tomb. All I would have to do was drag him in the half exposed entrance and collapse it. _

_We tethered our horses and he pushed past me eager to lay eyes on the girl, apparently behaving himself for a few days at Snape had taxed his limited self control to its utter limits. I pulled the black dagger free and followed him pouncing when he knelt to pull a branch aside. His doublet was thicker than I expected and I had a bad moment thinking I hadn't thrust hard enough but the blade was keen and it did its work better than I did. He had just enough time to whirl towards me before the light faded from his eyes and something whooshed past and through me caressing and lashing me on its way. I could feel a grin tugging the corners of my mouth and I stifled a giggle. Snape might be tempting but it wasn't where I belonged I reflected as I licked some of the blood from my fingers._

_It's not a thing I'm proud of or a thing I expect you to understand Will but the truth is, I like killing._

If it was possible to whisper while writing that admission was made in a shame ridden barely audible tone.

_Not children, never children, not the innocent, or the kind, good, and decent. Truth is the nastier and more dangerous the better. Partly it's a desire to protect the doves but it's also the thrill of the hunt. Maybe it's the Draig in me maybe it's just how I am but I'm a predator, Will as much as the men that trained me._

It wasn't really a revelation but it was a little chilling to see it there written in blood. I skimmed down a little further.

_I pulled my sparrow from his hiding place in my doublet and walked swiftly toward the White Tower. Now that his feathers were in he wanted to flutter his wings but since he wasn't quite ready to be on his own and neither Skeffington nor Cromwell knew of his existence I had to be careful when and where he tested his wings. I had several hours of free time and since everyone avoided the stairs to the royal chapel in the White Tower I thought it would be a safe enough spot but as I turned the corner to ascend the stairs I came face to face with a ghost. I frowned in annoyance and started to step around the haunt, the bloody Tower was full to bursting with the dead but he followed me. Surprised I gave ground. My sparrow cheeped scoldingly at me as I nearly dislodged him from is perch on my finger. _

"_Please" he begged trying to grab my arms "They're killing my brother and I. I don't want to die. Please." I retreated further but unlike every other ghost on the grounds he followed me crying to be rescued. "Please, have you no loyalty to your king!" The specter, who was only a few years older and no taller than me, was practically screaming through his tears. The other dead completely ignored the living, why was this one trying to grab me? I gave some more ground and my right foot was suddenly over open air. As I toppled backward I realized I'd backed all the way to the next landing. I scrambled for my balance not wanting to tumble down the deserted stone stair when someone caught me from behind._

"_Are you alright?" I had the wild notion that arms around me belonged to the persistent ghost's slightly older brother. "You look like you've seen a ghost."_

_Something must have shown in my eyes because his own widened "You did. Just like your father could."_

_I had not clue one what this mad boy was nattering on about. I shrugged free and glanced back up the stair. The boy was gone but I could sense the bodies under the stairs. Two of them, both closely related to the still breathing eleven or twelve year old boy behind me. Blood will always tell._

"_Old Lord Tallyrand could see ghosts too, or at least my father says so."_

"_Thank you for your assistance" I said coolly as I started to slip past but he caught my arm._

"_Don't you want to know about your father?"_

"_He's dead, end of story."_

_Just a touch of a grin tugged at the edge of his lip "Maybe not for someone like you."_

"_I never said I saw anything" I growled._

"_You didn't deny it, either" the older boy pointed out. "I wish I had the sight" he whispered._

_I shook off his hand "I didn't see a god damned thing."_

_He went a trifle pale "You shouldn't talk like that."_

"_Like what?"_

_He blinked at me "What is that blacksmith's son teaching you?"_

_He made blacksmith's son sound like the lowest conceivable form of slime._

"_Father should have gone to the King and made him honor the will."_

_I had the distinct notion that I was missing some vital piece of information because I had NO idea was this freak was talking about. My confusion must have shown in my face._

"_Your father's will. My father is your godfather, which makes us brothers, sort of, anyway if something ever happened to your father you were SUPPOSED to come live with us but when your father….passed on but that blacksmith's son tricked the King into making you his ward instead of my father's." _

_He spit it out at such a desperate all-in-one-breath pace that it almost sounded correct instead of impossibly slow to my ears._

"_Anyway that's why I was looking for you while my father was reviewing the artillery in storage. I figured since we were SUPPOSED to be brothers we should meet. I used to have a little brother named James but he died when he was just a baby."_

_Apparently who-ever-he-was shared my problem of talking too fast when he was nervous. _

"_I was really looking forward to you coming to live with us. Not that I wanted anything bad to happen to your family but since it DID I was thinking that some good could come would come of it but then that blacksmith's son STOLE you."_

_Who-ever-he-was seemed to find this quite distressing._

"_And GOD alone knows WHAT he's done to you. I am terribly disappointed that my father didn't do more to rescue you from his clutches. I've thought about stealing you back"_

_I tensed at that bit._

"_But I hadn't the foggiest about how to go about it. I've never kidnapped anyone of course, except you were really SUPPOSED to be with us anyway so it really wouldn't be kidnapping."_

_I was beginning to wonder if who-ever-he-was actually needed to breath._

"_But my father noticed what I was planning and made me solemnly swear not to do it but he never said he couldn't talk to you." _

_While he was busy taking a breath I finally managed to ask "Who the hell are you?"_

"_Oh" he gave a little bow, "I'm Henry Pole, Lord Montague's son. You are Rhys, aren't you?"_

"_So they tell me" I muttered back while sketching a polite bow. For the first six months of my life I had answered to maggot (actually here in the Tower I STILL answered to maggot), Cromwell always called me boy or my young lordling, and Bess called me Ears, no one actually called me Rhys. _

"_Why don't you come meet my father? I'm certain he'd be willing to have you visit from time to time."_

_Christ on a crutch, Lord Montague's son, bloody flogging hell. Cromwell had been trying to get an agent into his house for months and this boy just wandered up and handed me the opportunity (and likely his father's head) on a silver platter. The Poles weren't Old Blood but apparently an 'Old Blood traitor' to quote Cromwell had warded their house making it invitation only. I was willing to bet Old Tallyrand was the traitor. All I had to do was smile and accept his offer. My sparrow fluttered from where he'd been clinging to the wall toward my hand. I caught him absentmindedly before he could injury himself on the stonework. Henry had done the same for me just moments ago. It wouldn't be 'kind' to hand his father over to Cromwell in repayment. If I squandered this opportunity Cromwell would have MY head. Cromwell would reward me well and richly if I handed him the key to lay low the house of Pole as would the King. And now I knew something neither Cromwell nor the King did. Elizabeth of York Henry the VIII's mother **wasn't** Edward the IV's daughter. Henry the VIII's crown rested on the fact that the Tudor blood mingled the lines of York and Lancaster but I now knew it was a lie, there was no White Rose blood in Henry Tudor. The fires that had ignited during the Pilgrimage still smoldered. What would happen if I could prove that Henry Tudor's claim to the throne was weaker than was commonly believed? That Lord Montague had every inch as good a claim? With a few well placed Shadows I could cast England back into civil war. I dared not reject Henry Poles' offer out of hand but could I keep my new gained knowledge from Cromwell? Because if he found out the Poles wouldn't survive the day (and neither would I if he found out I had withheld so critical a piece of information)._

_I looked at the sparrow. All I had to do was crush him, no one would know or care. Cromwell didn't know he existed. I'd kept the bird from Cromwell perhaps I could keep this encounter with Henry Pole a secret as well. I looked up into his begging blue eyes. The poor whelp had no idea he was trying to drag the serpent into his garden. He was lucky, the serpent was giving him a pass at the risk of his own hide._

"_I don't think so. And I think it would be best if you stayed the hell away from me and from My Lord Privy Seal."_

_I stomped down the hall pretending to be angry with my heart hammering in my breast. I should have warned him that the King had ordered Cromwell in no uncertain terms to find a way to destroy his entire family. Damn that fool Reginald Pole while he was safely in Rome the Mouldwarp was going to grind everyone he loved into powder for his sins. _

I flipped a couple of pages only taking in enough to note that Mallory appeared to have managed to keep the encounter on the stairs from Cromwell. And that he was really, truly, and horribly **BAD** at archery at this stage in his life. It made me nervous about trusting his aim even now.

_I eyed the mixed Howard and retainer brats arrayed in front of me anything but cowed. They ranged in age from the twelve year old Henry Carey to some eight year old who looked to be a servant's son. Because they had me out numbered six to one they thought they had the upper hand on 'Cromwell's little pet'._

_The Tower Guard could have told them a thing or two about underestimating "Cromwell's little pet' as could the Old Duke of Norfolk their grand-uncle, cousin, or master depending on which idiot you were referring to. Thomas Howard was no fool. He might not have a Wind Talker on his staff but he had no few discrete eyes and ears and he knew enough about me that I was willing to bet I could piss in his cup in front of him and he'd smile politely and drink it. Apparently neither his son nor his great-nephew had inherited his wisdom. Nor had the fact that no adult outside of the small circle of instructors Cromwell had assigned me dared to cross me impressed itself upon them. I grinned to their sudden dismay. This was going to be **such **fun! I couldn't KILL them, of course, we were within the verge of the court but I could certainly **hurt** them and with six to one odds the King would simply admire my 'pluck'._

"_Master Aschem! Master Aschem!" called a desperate and vaguely familiar voice. I had to restrain a groan of dismay as Henry Pole loped up to stand beside me. I had been doing an excellent job of evading all his attempts to speak to me for the fortnight since our little encounter on the stairs. Now, he had to go and play hero. Bugger all and damn the twit. And thrice damn him for calling ADULTS in to a matter I could have settled decisively on my own to the enhancement of my reputation. But it wasn't Aschem's voice that froze me to my marrow._

"_Is there a problem, boys?" Cromwell's pleasant speaking voice held a velvet edge and everyone but the biggest idiot of the bloody bunch next to me scattered like a covey of quail flushed by hounds and attacked by falcons. Henry straightened tall and cocksure beside me. Poor brave fool._

"_Young Henry Pole isn't it?"_

"_I am much honored that the King's Lord Privy Seal knows my name."_

"_I do indeed, young sir, and I do thank thee for coming so swiftly to my ward's aid. You must be a chivalrous young squire to fly so heedlessly into unknown peril for the sake of a stranger. Some might even consider it foolishly brave."_

_Henry flushed a little. The sap couldn't even tell he was being insulted. Of course Cromwell was the master of that sort of thing the tone was ever so subtly mocking. Making a compliment an insult with the insulted none the wiser was a fine art that I was just beginning to master. _

"_But then you aren't really strangers are you?"_

_I forced myself to appear puzzled. If Henry gave the game away he wasn't going to need to worry about Cromwell killing him._

"_Though I doubt young Rhys remembers that you were at his christening, I believe your fathers were good friends. It warms my heart to see the next generation standing together. I'm certain my ward is most eager to thank you properly for your timely assistance."_

"_I don't need"_

"_Ah, ah, young man didn't anyone ever teach you not to interrupt your elders? Now my ward will bring a proper thank you by to your father's tomorrow." He glanced over at me. Played, he'd played young Henry and I like a pair of bloody fiddles. There was not reason ONE for My Lord Privy Seal to be anywhere near here. "Rhys, thank the young man you have a great deal of work to do."_

_I gave Henry a gracious but hollow thank you and followed Cromwell with a heavy heart. It seemed in spite of my best intentions I was about to be party to the final destruction of the White Rose faction._

_Cromwell regarded me with a look that had me wanting to cringe once we were behind closed doors. "What do you know about the Poles?"_

_I shrugged. I had done a little discrete digging after the encounter on the White Tower stair but didn't want to admit it._

"_Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury's father was George Plantagenet the younger brother of Edward the IV, elder brother of Richard III. He was attained and according to legend drowned in a butt of malmsey wine."_

"_So that's who he is."_

_Cromwell blinked "They really DID drown him in a vat of wine?"_

_I nodded "He's related to the boys in the White Tower."_

_It wasn't often I got to see Cromwell surprised "You've seen the Princes?"_

_I shrugged "If that's who they are. There are two nobly born boys buried under the stairs to the Chapel Royal. The younger one is really…pushy."_

"_Why did you never tell me this?"_

"_You want me tell you about EVERY ghost in the Tower?" I let the incredulousness infuse my voice. The Tower had more dead than living. When I'd first been introduced to the concept of history I had enthusiastically tried to figure out who was who but the Tower's haunts were legion and I'd given it up. _

_Cromwell paused "No. When Richard the III ruled she and her brother were the acknowledged heirs to the throne since Edward IV's children had been declared bastards."_

_I made very certain NOT to react to that._

"_When Richard died at Bosworth and Henry Tudor the current King's father became King the Countess' brother the Earl of Warwick was confined to the Tower and kept for some years without any contact with the outside world. There is some debate over as to whether the boy was always simple or his long confinement made him that way but regardless he was a danger to the succession and as soon cause could be found he was executed." The pause was pregnant "For the good of the realm."_

_I kept the rejoinder 'For the good of the House of Tudor and Thomas Cromwell' very firmly behind my teeth._

"_As you know the King has been ailing of late"_

_The King had damn near died of a blood clot in the lung but Cromwell didn't know I could heal, I wasn't even certain if I could repeat the trick so I kept that to myself as well. I had no desire to be blamed for the death of the King of England if the sparrow was nothing but a fluke._

"_and with Prince Edward so young it is critical that there be no…muddying of the succession."_

_Loosely translated, a purge of all adult males with a claim to the throne, for the good of the realm, of course. Or at least that was what Cromwell was doing. I had read some of Cardinal Reginald Pole's writings. Even borrowing understanding from the mix of individuals Cromwell had had me impersonate much of the work was far over my head but what I could comprehend was erudite, compelling, and down right insulting to the King of England, not to mention blatantly treasonous. I had heard that Reginald Pole had been shocked speechless by the King's ire when he read the work. Since Pole was patently a brilliant scholar I could only conclude he was also fatally naive. The King didn't care about his naiveté – he wanted blood and since he couldn't have Reginald's he would settle for his brothers Henry and Geoffrey. If it was just the King he MIGHT be content to savage only one to salve his wounded pride but Cromwell would want them all. There was no way in hell I was going to take on the Lord Privy Seal for the sake of Henry Pole. What did I care about the White Roses? _

"_Since the threat is less urgent than it was a few weeks ago we need not rush. By year's end will be soon enough."_

_Which meant the Poles had less than four months to live, absolute best._

"_Lord Montague's friendship with the child you replaced's father should make that no great challenge. And then locate anything that can be used as a pretense for an arrest. Since there will be no trial just an attainment the flimsiest of pretexts will do. I am certain that you will have no difficulty finding something we can use." He dropped an already wrapped bundle into my arms. "Give young Pole this and go practice your archery."_

_I glared at the target butt. At twenty paces I could split an arrow on the bull's eye, at thirty I was doing well to hit the straw bale let alone the target. No one else had a similar problem which led me to believe there was something different about my sight. I wondered if it was just me or an elf thing in general. I collected my scattered arrows and walked back to my line. I drew the bow. What was I going to do about the Poles?_

_Loose. From the thunk I'd missed the target completely. First choice, get in get out and hand the whole family to Cromwell on a plate. I could easily plant enough send them all to the block tomorrow. My sparrow fluttered down to hang on my bow-string, nose to beak as it were. I let the tension out slowly instead of loosing the arrow and let him hop onto my finger as I set down the bow. I ran a finger over the soft feathers of his breast. Just like the Poles he was completely unsuspecting. All I had to do was tighten my grip._

"_I wouldn't, if I were you" said the most melodious voice I had ever heard. _

_I whirled, dagger drawn and the 'who are you?' that had been on the tip of my tongue instead emerged as "What the bloody hell are you?" Closing my eyes in the face of a potential enemy seemed beyond foolish but whatever it was put out a light more blinding than staring into the noon day sun. And truth told given the power that rolled from it in waves if it had wanted me dead I would already BE dead. Damn but my eyes burned even closed and it suddenly occurred to me that I might be cursing in the presence of a member of the angelic host._

_The intruder chuckled and the sound was like the ringing of perfectly pitched bells. Now that I wasn't being blinded it occurred to me that the sound ventured into octaves that the human voice didn't normally go, further proof that my visitor was no human._

"_Nor am I an angel, and you can open your eyes now."_

_The power was still there but leashed, tightly leashed and staining to be free again. I cautiously opened my streaming eyes. I knew that under my various Shadows I was a very comely child but the creature before me was easily as lovely. I was at a complete loss though as to if it was male or female and the outlandish clothing it wore gave me no hints. It held out a hand and my sparrow fluttered to it. _

"_Mine" I snapped suddenly angry even as the more wary parts of my brain belatedly informed me that I was easily overmatched against this being._

"_Today you are but that might not always be the case" I shivered as I realized it was replying to my very thoughts. "I am as powerful as I will ever be while you have a great deal of growing yet to do." Something was wrong with its hands and its eyes. It arched one fine dark brow and suddenly the Shadow on both hands and eyes vanished revealing that they were living, liquid metal. What happened? I thought at it._

"_I made a mistake. I trusted that the brother of my heart would not betray me and that the brother of my blood would not do me grievous harm." It glanced down at the arm it had lost all the way to the elbow. "I was wrong. I hope for your sake, if you live long enough to put it to the test, that you are more fortunate than I was."_

_Why are you here? I wondered if it could only hear thoughts._

_Oh, I am perfectly capable of replying with only my mind "But I think you would prefer that I didn't."_

"_Yes, please. Why are you here?"_

_It studied the sparrow with its quicksilver eyes "I can not decide which is greater, my envy of you or my pity for you." A few seeds emerged from the metal of his hand. "Why am I here? I could say that I am here because your grandsire wanted my opinion of you but I could give him that without you ever being aware that I was observing you." My sparrow, far less leery than I was, fell upon the seed with gusto. It continued watching the sparrow "We are very different and yet much alike. We are both utterly unique among our respective kinds. We are both born to great destinies and have the powerful enemies and desperate choices that come with those destinies. We are both paired creatures, born with both a human nature and….something else slithering around inside us and we have both been faced with a choice between those natures." The quicksilver eyes finally flickered to me "I chose to destroy the bulk of my humanity just as you were about to do. I suppose that fact what vestiges remain have always regretted the necessity is a poor reason to meddle with your own choice but you are so desperately young. I had lived for several thousand years before I made my choice and I did it with full knowledge of exactly what I was giving up and why. I have never doubted in the thousands of years from that day to this that it was the correct choice but I could not stand aside and watch you make such a binding choice in complete ignorance of what you are sacrificing."_

"_Then enlighten me."_

"_I envy you your freedom" it whispered "History makes men, men make history. We were both born to our chains but if you are very determined you might have a chance to slip yours. I never had that chance, my destiny was set from the hour of my conception, my only choice is when and who. I pity you your freedom, for you are catalyst of change, and that will be a terrible burden if you choose to keep your humanity but you might also reap great rewards should you survive the turbulence of your youth."_

"_Why did my grandsire send you here?"_

"_Because he can not come himself, because your House has been allied with me for eight thousand years, because I am the best seer in the Universe and he has already sent his two best mad trying to untangle what you might do and become."_

"_And that is?"_

"_There are so many possibilities that you make my head ache worse than I made your eyes a few moments ago. Normally I can look at a man and tell you what his descendants will be doing in three thousand years but not you. You are one of the greatest ciphers I have ever met."_

_It turned its hand a little and my sparrow fluttered back to me. _

"_You could stop me."_

"_Now, yes, in the future, perhaps, if you grow up we will be well matched in raw power."_

"_Then why not just stop me if you don't want me to do it?"_

"_You've been listening to Cromwell too much. Yes, what a man CAN do is important, but what a man WON'T do is just as critical." He nodded to the bird "You have a choice to make, boy."_

_It occurred to me that it had never said what would happen if I did crush the bird (not that anything that it had said had made all that much sense) but I didn't ask because I suddenly didn't want to. I hadn't realized that I was sacrificing anything only that it would make things simpler. Now that I did I had no desire to rush the decision._

"_Very wise" it said as it rose from the bench "The next time your life hangs on the life of a sparrow"_

_I glanced up in surprise. I had never realized that my life was in jeopardy._

"_If I had wanted a Draig on my flank I wouldn't have let them destroy themselves. If you had chosen poorly I would have crushed the serpent still in the shell" It dropped down onto one knee so that we were on the same level "But I trust your heart and it is a good one even if you host a fell beast. For me to have kept my humanity would have saved me and condemned mankind, for you to lose yours would have destroyed both you and your people. Now, as I was saying the next time your life hangs on a SPARROW'S. Every man JACK would do well to remember that just because you aren't born with wings doesn't mean you can't find some but even a CAPTAIN would do well to recall Icarus's fate." And then it vanished._

Every eye in the room was on Jack. Who decided to study his finger nails. "Did ye gents, and lady, need something?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Clearly the message was meant for you, Jack. Any ideas?"

"I should endeavor not to fly too near the sun while using wax wings?" he suggested with a golden grin.

That got a groan from everyone but me. I assumed it must have something to do with Icarus's fate.

"Captain Jack Sparrow" the Commodore was using his frostiest tones "If we are to take the concept of prophecy seriously then you have just been informed that you may very well hold the key to your brother's survival in the near future. I would THINK that even a pirate might take such news to heart."

In a rare moment of utter seriousness Jack replied "I do Commodore Norrington and you can rest assured I'll be keeping a weather eye out for a set o wings, metaphorical or physical, but I doubt this is the opportune moment for that. Right now we need te move along with what we're doing afore me brother wakes up and misses his letters. Savvy?"

_Such was my first encounter with your 'Dark Lady' Will. Upon our second meeting I was so thoroughly Jonathan Sperling that I didn't even recognize her (Or him, as the case may be, though I doubt very much that you wanted to know that. Your lady very much kept you in the dark about his true nature.) until much later when the real me crawled back to the surface. We were never friends, in spite of your best intentions and I hated her for what he did to you. And while I'm at it DAMN him for leaving me in this box! She could have at least bloody WARNED me. _

The Mallory in the box was well and truly furious with the 'Dark Lady' and you could feel him have to fight down another wave of futile struggling to get out before he seemed to sigh in frustration and continue his narrative.

_If I'm being honest she DID try to warn me and she never WANTED to abandon you…_

_The golden eyes that regarded me were as cold and distant as a Russian winter, as cold as the metal ones her clever Shadows hid so well that even I couldn't see through them if she did not let me (the healer in me could always tell they were not true flesh as was much else about her though). _

"_Ailell, you're tearing him apart." I snapped as I grabbed her still flesh upper arm. It probably wasn't wise to manhandle a highly paranoid entity that was millennia my elder and still significantly more powerful (not to mention more skilled) than I was but at the moment only Will mattered and I didn't care if she struck me blind (or worse) for my presumption. _

"_I never would have thought you were a coward" I spat._

_The Dark Lady rolled her metallic eyes "You know better than that. I have no pride left for you to prick. Bravery and cowardice are irrelevant. I have work to do, nothing more and nothing less."_

"_There is far more humanity left in you that you thought. You're leaving because you're falling in love with a mortal." _

"_I'm incapable of falling in love" the Dark Lady shot back._

_I smiled at her, half gentle sympathy and half impatient mockery "I may not be a mind reader but I see souls. Maybe a few thousand years ago you really were completely inhuman but the human heart has a habit of healing even during a fleeting mortal lifetime. I think it did a better job of regenerating than your flesh did." I watched the soft golden light that just being around Will brightened in her war with the harsh cold fire of the truly inhuman, alien, otherworldly half of her soul. _

_I wondered if this was the kind of thing that Henri had seen in me when he spoke of angels and demons at war in my eyes? Oh, Will, your Dark Lady is so much more than you even dream. I shivered as the lightening won this round. The golden human reminded me of no one so much as Milady Latimer (or perhaps James Norrington) but the lightening, the lightening chilled me to my marrow. My ability to communicate with animals was not my strongest talent but I carry the Draig within and I understand this world better than most. The lightening was not of this world nor was I convinced it had anything but its own best interests at 'heart'. The other Quickened carried the lightening but theirs had no 'mind'. I did not envy her in the least but I had begun to understand why she might envy me._

_My own eyes narrowed and my ears flickered back, flat to my head._

"_You are too great a seer to be caught unaware, why did you let this happen?"_

_This time gold flared ascendant and I basked in that beautiful light. If she had been purely the golden being I would have counted her an equal to Milady Latimer or Henri and I suspected that once upon a time she might have eclipsed them both. I wondered what tragedy had convinced her to attempt to destroy the gold. _

"_Why were you hiding as Jonathan Sperling?"_

_It was on the tip of my tongue to deny it but why lie to a mind reader?_

"_Sometimes, for just a moment, it is refreshing to not bear the weight of the Universe but the longer I tarry here the more likely it is that whole worlds will be lost. I have to go. I had to be on Earth for the birth of the next Champion but all that must be set in motion has been. It is long past time to go."_

_Hearing it from the golden one I believed it (though I did wonder about 'the Champion'). I could see the sorrow, the loss, the regret, and the determination but as I stepped aside she grabbed my arm. "When the Draigs call, do not"_

_Then the lightening flared and swallowed the gold and her jaw snapped shut so fast she must have bitten her tongue for blood trickled from the corners of her mouth. Don't despair a soft voice echoed in my mind it is always darkest before the dawn and then she was gone._

_But enough of the Dark Lady who is undoubtedly busy with her own battles and has little time for Avalon. So, I dutifully went to Lord Montague's house with the thank you gift since there was no getting out of it._

_What was I going to do? I didn't WANT to betray the Poles, after all Henry had caught me on the stairs but they were going to the block anyway did it matter who sent them there? Milady Latimer (and my strange visitor yesterday) probably would have said it did. I glanced around the foyer while the footman went to inform the household that Lord Tallyrand had come to call upon Lord Montague. Given the wealth of the family the house was far less ostentatious than I had expected. Most lords were in hock up to their eyeballs for the rest of their natural lives the Poles seem to have dodged that particular dart which meant the Crown would be even more enriched by this attainment than was usual. Yet another reason for the Mouldwarp to commit judicial murder since his favorite method of refilling his coffers appeared to be to fleecing the dead and stripping the church both of which I had helped with in the last year._

"_You came!" Henry practically bounded into the room, apparently no one had beaten proper decorum into him yet. _

_I arched one of the Shadow I was wearing's ginger brows, "Was there ever any doubt?"_

_I got a shy smile "I didn't think you liked me much."_

_Bloody hell, what were they teaching this child! He was at least eleven, more than old enough to be presented at court (though he clearly hadn't been), and he was still wearing his heart on his sleeve like some peasant brat. These people were too stupid to live. I would be doing them a favor by getting it over with quickly._

"_You have given no offense, what cause would I have to dislike you?"_

"_You've been avoiding me and you looked like you would have rather taken on all those boys by yourself than have my help."_

_Both true but I was saved from having to respond by and adult voice intoning "Indeed"_

I glanced at Norrington, I couldn't help it. The man towering over Mallory didn't really resemble Norrington but the tone of voice and the stance where pure Commodore.

I went back to reading before Jack could start glaring at me again.

_I looked at Lord Montague, the Countess, his mother, the two servants who flanked them and Henry. Snape, this noble house in the heart of London just beyond the verge of the court had the same 'flavor' as Snape. None of the people in this room were quite as 'warm' as Milady Latimer but still these were people worth saving. I knew that none of the servants belonged to Cromwell but the more people who knew what I was going to say the greater chance for the wrong person to hear it repeated. _

_I gave the Countess and her son Lord Montague bows appropriate to our relative ranks and ages "Your son brings honor to your House." In point of fact perhaps it was better not spoken aloud for walls do have ears for those who can speak to them. "I suddenly find that I would like to pen something to appropriately express my feelings in addition to the gift but I have brought no writing materials."_

"_Thomas, would you please fetch quill, ink, and paper from my desk?" One down. I glanced at the Countess while trying to let my request echo in my eyes. _

"_Mary, I left some embroidery in my chambers fetch it for me." The girl bobbed and was gone. The truth was I had brought quill, ink, and a few scraps of paper myself, just in case. _

_I quickly wrote – Cromwell and the King intend to attain you ere Yuletide. You must flee to the continent with all haste._

_Aschem would cane me if he saw me using the quicker and simpler clerks' hand instead of the great swirling italic he was teaching as 'appropriate' for my rank _

_This did not illicit the response I was expecting. No dismay, no flurry of preparations, not even a gasp from the lady. _

_I picked up the pen again – Don't you understand? They intend to kill you. Soon. _

_Lord Montague knelt down on my level and grasped my shoulder. I was very glad that the Shadow of Lord Tallyrand was the same size as the real me because he couldn't fail to notice any difference in size at this distance._

"_You are a good lad, Rhys. Your father would be very proud of you for trying to warn us of danger." He picked me up and set me on a shelf so we could still be eye level without him having to kneel. "But you aren't a knight or a courtier, yet. You are a little boy. I have no doubt that the King is still angry with my brother Reginald and that My Lord Privy Seal Cromwell would like us all in our graves. But **we** have done nothing wrong. We have even repudiated my brother. The King is not above the law and the law will protect us."_

_I gapped at him, even the thought that Skeffington would cane me for showing my thoughts so plainly wasn't enough to keep my jaw from dropping. He really thought that being innocent would save him, or at least his family. He thought that the Mouldwarp obeyed the law instead of contorting it and the concept of honor to fit his desires. Had he had his head under a rock these last few years? I decided to throw his own indiscreet words back at him._

"_What about 'The King never makes a man but he destroyed him again either with displeasure or with the sword?' you were foretelling your own fate for he has chosen the sword for you and all your House."_

_Lord Montague blanched a little._

"_Your rank will not save you for had he not also sworn 'there is no head so fine that he would not make it fly?'. The Lion of London wants to bloody his claws."_

"_Well lad, you have sharp ears, and My Lord Privy Seal has taught you to have a quicker tongue than your father did as a man grown but God will protect his own even as he tests our faith." He swept me back onto my feet "Now, you go out and play with Henry in the garden." As we passed he pulled Henry into a tight embrace and their enaids did this odd little jig. Interesting. From the way they leaned into the contact it was enjoyable._

"_Don't worry, son, but it would be best if you boys didn't discuss this where the servants can hear."_

"_Yes, father."_

_As I followed Henry out I kept one ear cocked to hear what the Countess and her son had to say with me out of the room._

_My heart leapt when Lord Montague said "It might be wise to at least send the children abroad."_

_And sank at the reply from the Countess "We live and die as a family, Henry. And I will not leave 'Lady' Mary here, friendless."_

'_Lady Mary' I wondered, not even daring to say 'Princess Mary' in my thoughts, men had gone to the block for that slip of the tongue, what did Lady Mary of the excellent cookies have to do with the Poles? Cromwell made a point of being solicitous to Lady Mary because, after all, the King's health was not good and Prince Edward was only a baby. _

_But he constantly reminded me that one bound a hawk to the hand with dainty tidbits and Lady Mary was trying to do the same with Bess and I. I thought the Lady Mary felt guilty about resenting bratty Bess and all she represented and I was the 'motherless dear'. Trying to stuff us with sweets through some strange female logic that was beyond Cromwell or I's ken (but the results of which were very clear in her enaid) simply made her feel less wretched. I didn't particularly mind but I had noticed that all the sweets weren't doing bratty Bess' teeth any favors. _

"_My brother's blood was the bride price King Ferdinand demanded for his daughter Katharina's hand. Since fate stole from me a brother I took a sister in repayment. Now Katharina is also gone. I will not abandon her daughter in her hour of need nor will I watch our family torn any further asunder. Bad enough that we have had to repudiate your brother. I have known the King all of his life he will not destroy us all just because of Reginald." She sighed "I know you have never liked Henry Tudor, have always resented that if fate had been just a little different it would have been you on the throne instead of him, but don't assume the worst of him especially on the vain imaginations of a little boy."_

_I was so thoroughly pissed at the stupid ass bitch I completely missed Montague's reply except to note that it was largely affirmative. These people were too damn STUPID to live. And I might yet end up as Skeffington's meat for warning them. I glared at the little sparrow. Life would have been so much simpler if I had crushed the bird (except for the small detail that my odd visitor would have killed me which would have undoubtedly simplified everything a great deal) but the instant it had fluttered away to another's hand all thought of harming it had vanished to be replaced by a surly protectiveness. The bird was **mine** and I would suffer no harm to come to him even by my own hand. _

_When we reached the garden Henry threw a small, round object at me. I flung it back, angry._

"_I'm not a baby, you can use your dagger."_

"_Use my dagger for what?" he looked totally confused._

"_To throw at me. I haven't needed the edges blunted for months. I didn't even START with round stuff."_

"_It's a ball" he said his enaid fluttering through a number of things I couldn't begin to place and finished with his eyes narrowed "Who throws daggers at you?"_

_I didn't think I should answer that question "It's part of my training. No one throws daggers at you?" Now I was confused. _

"_No" I was getting a very odd look. I nodded to an apple tree just to Henry's left "Throw yours at me, I'll catch it midair, and sink it in that tree."_

_He glanced at the tree and back at me "I won't throw my dagger at you. I don't want to hurt you."_

_I tossed my head and glared at him "You won't" I said flatly. _

"_You're serious. Forget it. I'm not going to throw a knife at you. Let's just play catch." He picked up that stupid baby ball again._

"_I'm not allowed to play. It's a waste of valuable time."_

_Another long look followed by anger this time, "We have to get you away from that blacksmith's son. Father NEVER should have let him have you."_

_I flicked my ears forward and back in rising fury. "You don't believe me anymore than your grandmother does. Throw the damn knife." Something magical happened in those snapped words and Henry flung the knife without a second's hesitation. I plucked it easily out of the air and whipped it exactly where I said I would in one easy motion. I took a certain satisfaction in watching Henry mouth working as he stared at the quivering blade. I was showboating but there was no one but Henry to see and Wind would no longer tattle on me. I was rather curious about what I'd done to Henry but at least he didn't seem any the worse for wear. He walked over and wrenched the still quivering blade out of the apple tree and turned to me eyes wide as saucers._

"_I'm so sorry" he stared at the knife as if he'd never seen it before "I don't know what came over me" he pulled me into his arms "I could have killed you." No one had ever given my safety a second thought and I was at a complete loss as to how to react. He let me go and then grabbed my arms "I swear to you, Father will find a way to get you away from that blacksmith's son. We'll protect you as we should have from the beginning."_

_It took effort not to laugh in his earnest young face. He was twice my not-quite-six years and was immeasurably younger. Save me? Protect me? They couldn't even protect themselves. _

"_Fine then, let's leave for France, tonight" I couldn't believe I'd just said that. I had tried running away early on and Cromwell or Skeffington had always caught me again. Cromwell called me his belled hawk sometimes and I was personally convinced that some sort of magic kept me from slipping his jesses. If I actually convinced him to go I could NOT go with them without delivering them right back to the Lion of London. They would HAVE to go without me and suddenly I didn't want them to. _

"_We can't" he blinked at me "we have obligations, people who live on our estates and rely on us. We can't just abandon them."_

"_And DIEING here is an improvement over LIVING in exile? How will that help the people you have obligations to?"_

_He straightened up in a reasonably good (and uncomfortably stiff looking) imitation of his father "We are innocent. God and the law will protect us. The King knows the value of loyal nobles and we are both."_

"_The King knows the value of your estates down to the last farthing and is already trying to decide which of his castles your furniture would look best in. THAT is what the King knows."_

_He blinked and then said "Covetousness is wrong. The King will do what is right."_

"_Mon Dieu et mon droit" I said reminding of the King's personal motto, God and my right. "Might makes right, all that matters is what a man can do. Wrong is just an excuse for what a man doesn't dare to do."_

_Well, that set off a firestorm in his enaid and he went so pale I thought perhaps someone had sunk a knife into his back. _

"_Oh, Rhys, no, not ever, right and wrong are written on the heart, if you listen very carefully it will always tell you. All the power in the world won't erase an evil act or make it right, no matter what that blacksmith's son says. There is nothing nobler than good deed. My father says that the true test of any lord is the way he wields his power. A great lord will not use it to batter those beneath him into abject subjugation, nor to take what is not rightfully his but to help those who serve him. God has entrusted us with a great privilege and a great burden and with it comes the obligation to serve even as we are served." There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes "I pray every night for the wisdom of Solomon so that I can always do what is right for my estates and all the souls that God has delivered into my hands."_

_I could vouch that the King made no such supplication. Something good and rare and precious was going to be destroyed here very soon._

_He drew a deep breath "But we're supposed to be playing. Mitsy has kittens, would you like to see them?"_

_I had seen how the guards 'toyed' with kittens and it surprised me that Henry would engage in such an act. It seemed most unkind and I hesitated "How do you play with them?" I finally asked._

_I thought for a second Henry was going to curse. Never let it be said the Poles were stupid, naïve in the extreme, loyal to a fault, blind to the faults of others but in troth, never stupid. I had said enough for him to come to the obvious conclusion. _

"_I'll teach you" he promised._

_Mitsy was apparently a very good mother because there were eight kittens. I scooped up one of the orange ones and he yowled in fright sinking his sharp little teeth into my thumb. I drew back my other hand to teach him the error of his ways but Henry caught my hand._

"_That's not very nice." _

_He took the kitten gently, "He only bit you because you frightened him." He handed me the grey one "Put one of your hands like that so she won't spook then pet her like this." The little orange cat in his lap started making the strangest sound and did mine when I followed suite. It was, once I become accustom to it, a soothing sound but my bit of fluff soon wearied of being held and leapt down to stalk her mother's tail. _

_Henry pulled a bit of string with a feather on it from his doublet and began baiting the kittens as if he were training a falcon. All eight of the little balls of fluff vied to capture the feather, engaging in increasingly ludicrous acrobatics and it was my turn to make a sound I never had before. Henry glanced at me and then went back to baiting the kittens. _

_It was my first REAL laugh, Will. And I think the first time in my life I ever relaxed, not completely, never completely. I remember being hunted too well and a certain wary alertness is part and parcel of my nature. Idyllic perhaps fits better than relaxed or maybe contented. I am not often either and I treasure those moments when by some happy chance I manage them. I do not know if it is by nature or by Cromwell's 'nurture' but I am rarely content or at rest. I drill, I practice, I test the limits of my abilities constantly partially from paranoia but mostly because I am rarely comfortable being still. Even here in this trap I run strategies constantly, reviewing all that I have done, seeking my mistakes so that I might learn from them when I escape but not that afternoon. I was content with warm sun, playful kittens, and the new foundations of my friendship. But nothing gold can stay and I had to report back to my Master and Cromwell was less than best pleased with my report that the Poles were dutiful and loyal. As the days passed into a fortnight and then a moon veiled hints became veiled threats, became overt threats but the Poles would not budge and to be honest I am not certain I pressed them as hard as I could have. It was easy, within their walls to forget that a hungry Lion wanted their blood outside. And then Cromwell struck, not at Lord Montague directly but at his younger brother, Geoffrey._

_I firmly swallowed the butterflies fluttering in stomach and stepped into Skeffington's lair. Geoffrey Pole's head might be in a bag but it did nothing to stifle his whimpers. Not good at all, if there was a weak link in the Pole family it was Geoffrey. He would snap like kindling in Skeffington's hands but what truly worried me was the fact that Cromwell was here in person. While he nominally held Skeffington's leash he generally sent him instructions instead of wasting his own time coming to the Tower and generally **I **was that messenger. That Cromwell had come himself did not bode well for the Poles or I. _

_Cromwell turned his unreadable eyes on me as I studied his enaid but there was nothing really to be gleaned there either. Cromwell had goals but if he had ever had emotions they were largely gone now though he did a very good job at pretending to still have a heart. _

"_I want a full confession" he said "Skeffington will be here to observe and make suggestions but you are responsible for the sessions. You would do well to remember what fate awaits a traitor, lest you find yourself taking his place."_

37


	25. For the Sake of a Rose

My profound apologies for being so late and I must confess this chapter is going to run into a 3rd section. The good news is I already have 9 pages of it written so hopefully I'll be able to post the conclusion of this chapter soon….

Virtual cookies to anyone who can spot the Methos quote….

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 15 (part 2): For the Sake of a Rose**

_I blinked "Have I given you any cause to doubt me, my Lord? Have I not served you well and faithfully both in the court and the suppression of the monasteries? Tell me which of your retainers has done as much for you in ten years as I have done in less than three? I must confess I am wounded that you doubt my allegiance, how have I failed thee, Master?"_

_Skeffington didn't like the reminder that I had become the most prized jewel in Cromwell's crown. Sullen jealousy crept through his enaid. He would like nothing better than the chance to have me in his 'care' again. How was I to keep the Poles alive and my own hide intact?_

"_You have not yet delivered the Countess of Salisbury and her get into my hand."_

_I glanced at him "I thought you said we had time. You need at least a pretext lest the other lords become too nervous. I very much doubt the King wants yet another rebellion on his hands." I didn't say 'you wouldn't survive it', I didn't need to. _

"_I expected that you would present me with my pretext long ere now. I have been quite disappointed that your forays into Lord Montague's home have failed in their promise. A wise man would do as he has been bid."_

"_I merely have my Master's best interests at heart. Do you really think that the peers will except his testimony as valid?" Every family has its less than stellar members and Geoffrey was the Poles. Reginald was brilliant, naïve, but brilliant, Lord Montague was the ideal of what lords SHOULD be but so rarely are, and Geoffrey was the 'bad boy' of the family, except he was too good to do it well and was generally considered extremely incompetent. If Geoffrey Pole claimed that rain was wet it would be double checked and Cromwell knew it. My Lord Privy Seal was nothing if not cautious, he crafted his plans carefully and this snatch of Sir Geoffrey stank of a desperation for which I could find no explanation. _

"_And I find it insulting that you think me so poor a torturer as to give me such tender meat" and I WAS insulted. Any sap who started whimpering when the worst that had been done to him was a touch of manhandling and a bag over his head was a waste of my valuable time. Time I could be using to inspire rest of the Poles to flee except that none of them would budge without Geoffrey. Bugger all. _

"_I think the young 'gentleman' doth protest too much, let me reminded the maggot of his place" Skeffington growled. _

"_I am always ready to serve and to learn, since the meat is so tender might I try something….different on him?" Most importantly something that would leave him ready to run should I manage to engineer an opportunity._

"_So long as you have better results than you have at Lord Montague's" Cromwell said before leaving. Skeffington eyed me speculatively._

"_What are you up to, maggot?"_

"_Patience is a virtue" I retorted as I began to plan. _

"_And under NO circumstances is he to be allowed to sleep" I told the guard in front of me. I'd picked ones that I'd cowed long ago and whose terror of me I could count on to keep them properly obedient. Skeffington followed me like an oversized shadow his own ire growing. He hadn't really realized until today that at some point I had stopped being his 'wild child' and Cromwell's 'little pet' but had become something of a power in my own right, not on their par, not yet, but it wouldn't be long. I had a wonderful career in front of me and bringing down the Poles would be an excellent feather in my proverbial cap except I didn't WANT this particular feather. I was about to risk my career and my life for these people and I had no idea why. Cromwell had taught me that friendship was a myth, fear and respect were the best anyone could hope for, that it was far better to be feared than loved, and family was to be exploited. So why? Because I didn't want him to be right. Having met Milady Latimer and the Poles I wanted to believe that there was genuine kindness in the world and loyalty and friendship. This was the test and if the Poles should fail…_

"_No sleep, ohh I'm so terrified" Skeffington's mocking tones interrupted my ruminations._

"_It's a prelude" I retorted, unruffled and smooth, oh, but he didn't like that, he was used to everyone but Cromwell and the King cringing in his presence. "What is the first rule of great drama? Start small and build." I bowed, slightly mockingly, "Now, if you will pardon me I am for my bed, so that I might be well rested when I am ready to begin."_

"_Not so fast, maggot. My Lord Privy Seal commands that you sleep in the Salt Tower chamber tonight." _

_I already knew I was under suspicion but this was a harsh blow. I kept all of my unease from my face though and said lightly "If our lord commands it who am I to argue?"_

_Skeffington shadowed me all the way to the windowless stone chamber that had been my prison when I was first brought to Cromwell by the elf whose arm I had savaged. I hadn't set foot in it in the two years since I'd been declared 'tame' enough for public appearances. I had sworn I'd never willingly enter it again but fighting now would do neither the Poles nor I any good. As Cromwell was fond of saying, there is an opportune moment for everything. Better to yield now so as to lull suspicions._

_From the flicker of candlelight before Skeffington had locked the door behind me with a grin had revealed a chamber essentially unchanged from my earlier stay. Just enough light seeped in around the frame of the door for me to barely see though no human could have. I turned and glared at the door. It had no lock for me to pick since the entire mechanism was seated in the front of the 6 inch thick oak as were the hinges. I suppose I should have been flattered. I had the most secure cell in the entire Tower. I briefly considered laying down on the musty straw pallet but I was agitated, worried, and angry and now that neither Skeffington nor Cromwell's eyes were on me I gave in to pacing. I tried to stop recalling Cromwell's warnings that if I could not master myself in private how could I ever expect to in public but I was far too restless to settle and there was nothing for me to focus on. It wasn't until my forty-third lap of the room that I noticed that there WAS something different about the chamber. The stones were for lack of a better term, whispering. In the torture chambers below the White Tower the walls literally howled but I had thought that was a just all of the blood raising its voice but this very clearly wasn't born of blood, at least not directly. I paused and focused, 'listening' very, very hard. The stones THEMSELVES were speaking. They hadn't done that last time I had been in here…or I hadn't been able to hear them then? Cromwell had said I might develop other abilities as I grew and I was to inform him of them immediately._

_I had wanted to keep my sparrow a secret so I hadn't mentioned healing it. I had proven that healing him was no fluke though. There was a horse in the stable that no longer had a broken leg and I had rescued the smallest of Mitsy's kittens after she had been mauled by one of the hunting hounds. I felt my lips curl as I remembered…_

_I whirled ears pricked to the screeching yowl of a panicked cat and the baying of a pleased dog. I was off before Henry even heard much less reacted. I grabbed the mangy monstrosity by the top of his throat, right where the jaw meets the neck. I don't 'speak' to dogs any more than I 'speak' to birds but I can certainly make myself understood and the dog went from overjoyed at his prowess to pissing himself in a heartbeat. I threw it, knowing from long experience with the Tower's dogs that I would have no more trouble. Then I got a good look at the kitten and swallowed. The sparrow's wounds had been a few simple punctures that had pierced no vital organs, the mare's leg had been broken but the bones were still largely in place, this, this was a mess. You couldn't be a good assassin or torturer without knowing anatomy. How can you kill if you don't know where to strike? How can you inflict maximum pain without killing the prisoner too soon without knowing what a body can take? Cats hadn't really featured in any of the lessons given by Skeffington or Sadler but anyone could tell the fur ball was not long for this world. Henry was swiftly approaching but wasn't close enough yet to see how bad it really was. Using my knowledge of anatomy and the healing skills I still wasn't completely certain I really possessed I did as much as I could as quickly as I could making certain to leave a Shadow of a few minor wounds to explain the blood._

_She shivered, not really awake and still a bit shocky and curled up tight against me just as Henry followed closely by his father, Lord Montague arrived._

"_Are you hurt, child?"_

_Normally I would have bristled at that but Lord Montague seemed so genuinely worried that a completely different emotion for which I had no word welled up. I shook my head._

"_I'm fine."_

_He nodded, his normal, stiff-as-a-board posture reasserting itself "It was very brave of you, my young lord, but the hound might have torn you asunder"_

_This time I did bristle. Something must have flickered in my eyes because he glanced at the still cowed wolfhound and back at me with a touch of fear in his own eyes "Or perhaps not. To defend those within your care is the first and most important duty of any lord. We are called to serve and protect." His glance shifted to the blood on the ground in front of me "Though, sadly, we do not always succeed."_

_I flicked my ears back, failure was not an option. "She'll be alright" I said shifting just a little to reveal the sleeping kitten. _

_For being such a big man he took the kitten very gently, eyes sad "It might be better for her if we"_

"_She's FINE, too" I interrupted and right on cue she stirred a little, licked his hand, yawned, and snuggled against him. He probed her gingerly and then flashed me a surprised smile. Lord Montague didn't smile often. It was one of the things the King had against him. The King liked his courtiers to at least pretend they were merry even when they weren't. Lord Montague was far too serious, restrained, and formal for his taste._

"_I hate to encourage you, lest you bite off more than you can chew, but that was well done, lad, very well done."_

_Henry had said right and wrong were written on the heart and this was the first time that I had ever believed it. I had liked killing Culpeper but saving the kitten felt even better because not only had I liked it but it was right. Henry grinned at me like he was a proud papa._

"_Since you saved her you're responsible for her now."_

"_I can't, cats make My Lord Privy Seal sneeze."_

"_**Do** they?" Henry looked intrigued by that bit of intelligence._

"_Henry" there was a warning note in Lord Montague's voice "Do nothing rash, young sir." His gaze grew stern "Either of you. The kitten remains here."_

_Henry took the kitten; she made a half-hearted sleepy protest. _

"_So what are you going to name her?"_

_I considered what she looked like when she wasn't covered in blood and dog spit. The longer top coat was mostly dark grey with a few tan patches while the shorter, woolly undercoat was a paler grey, "Cinders"_

_I shook off the pleasant of the afternoon at the Poles. If I didn't think of something brilliant soon there would be no more Poles. So, the stones. Could the stones help me somehow?_

_I started at the sound of the six heavy bolts that held the great oak door being turned, had the night passed so swiftly?_

"_No sleep for you either, maggot?" Skeffington looked pleased with the thought. I was being hunted, not as obviously as with Her but hunted all the same. One slip and Skeffington would be on me like a hound on a kitten. "You wouldn't be trying to escape, would you?"_

_I gave him my most guileless look, "Our lord ordered me to spend the night here, why would I attempt to escape? I was merely working on a task for him and lost track of the time."_

_He wasn't sure if he should believe me or not._

"_Unfortunately I did not finish but now I must deal with Sir Geoffrey Pole."_

_Narrowed eyes "Then let us see how well you've learned the lessons that count, maggot."_

_Sir Geoffrey Pole looked far worse for his sleepless night than I did. He trembled in both body and enaid, fear doing more damage than the rack might do to a stauncher soul. _

_You know Will, for a man who never saw an enaid you have a rare gift for seeing souls. You said 'Cowards die many times before their deaths but the valiant never taste of death but once'. When it comes to the torture chamber truer words have never been spoken. This not to say that the brave do not break under torture, far from it, but cowards break themselves before the torturer even begins his work. To give Geoffrey his due he did better than many I saw latter. Even as the 'bad boy' of the family he still had a bone deep loyalty to his mother and brothers and he fought not to betray them despite his own fear. And to be fair no one ever held out long against what I did to Geoffrey. I didn't mean to shatter him, Will, I was just trying to play for time and in a way, I got it._

"_A feather bed? You want a feather bed, silk, and sheep's skin. You're a bit young to pleasure the truth out of him, maggot, and the wrong sex even if you were of age, even as pretty as you are."_

_It isn't easy to look down one's nose at someone nearly twice one's own height but I managed. "That is NOT my intent" I let a hint of a challenge thread through my voice "I would have thought someone as innovative as you would be intrigued by the idea of something new. Who knows you might even add something to your 'toys'."_

_He snorted "Feather beds and silk? Not likely, maggot. And you would do well to remember that our Lord expects results, soon. Are you certain that you want to try something…creative?"_

_I turned to the men who where manhandling Sir Geoffrey "Lay him on the feather bed and spread him as if for peine forte et dure but do not stretch him enough to hurt. Cushion the manacles with the sheep skin and cover him with silk. I want him as comfortable as possible." I had ordered Wind to wrap him in silence so he would be ignorant of what was being done to him. He tossed his head desperately trying to rid himself of the dark, burlap bag that had kept him more than half blind since Cromwell's goons had brought him here. I dismissed the men leaving Skeffington and I the only ones in the room. Now that there were no other eyes to see I called the thickest, darkest of Shadows, ripped the mask off and left him in absolute silence and darkness. I had chosen one of the less 'fragrant' cells and bound as he was his sense of touch would be nearly useless as well. It occurred to me that floating him in water might do a better job than the feather bed. I stepped away brushing up against the wall as I did so. In the silence of the room the whisper of stone was quite loud, utterly unintelligible, but loud now that I didn't have Wind constantly whispering in my ears. I could see Sir Geoffrey's lips moving but there was no sound in the room's unnatural silence. He tried to thrash against his bonds but they were too snug for him to move. It didn't take long for him to begin panting and screaming in earnest though again there was no sound which only added to his terror. Skeffington watched in rapt fascination while I went back to trying to comprehend the language of stone. It wasn't long though before Sir Geoffrey's rapidly deteriorating condition pulled me away from my frustration. _

_Bloody sodding hell, I thought as I looked at him. His enaid was crumbling in on itself and you could see his heart leaping in his chest fit to burst. I dispelled the Shadow and broke the silence. I shushed Wind as I knelt beside Sir Geoffrey._

"_Geoffrey" I barked at him but he kept screaming into space, locked in some private horror, driven there by the combination of his own fear and my magic. I slapped him, hard. He blinked and then began keening._

"_Interesting, maggot" I could tell Skeffington had meant to sneer but there was too much new found respect in his voice for him to quite pull it off "The concept is obviously sound but your technique needs refining. And a word to the wise, you should never try something new on an important prisoner."_

_He knelt on the edge of the feather bed to get a better look at Sir Geoffrey whose keening had at least become less strident. There was a flicker of something human in his eyes now and I kept mummering soothing nonsense to him, trying to draw it back to the surface._

"_Hmm" Skeffington prodded Sir Geoffrey a bit. He tried to curl up reflexively. I quickly undid his bonds and he immediately rolled into a ball. _

"_Congratulations, milord, in your habitual precociousness you broke your first prisoner in record time. Went a bit too far," he glanced at me, "don't fret. We've other ways of trapping the Poles if this one is too far gone and Cromwell will be pleased to know we've another way of loosing men's tongues that leaves no mark on the flesh. You just need to be a bit more restrained. You have the knack, milord you just lack the practice."_

_I was stunned. Skeffington had never treated me with anything but contempt and the back of his hand. Three months ago and I would have been elated. Now, I merely had the consolation that, for now at least, Sir Geoffrey Pole wouldn't be betraying his family. I didn't think he was going to stay like this for long though, already I could see things settling and stabilizing. I couldn't be certain but I was willing to wager that he would be talking again in a day or two and that he would say anything to avoid a repeat of this._

_Skeffington snapped some orders to the men waiting outside and then actually **smiled** at me. I hadn't known he knew how to do that, sneer, leer, and grimace, certainly, but smile? Of course it still wasn't a smile like Milady Latimer, Henry, or Lord Montague's, there was something dark and twisted in it and he was clearly eager to discuss his trade with me._

_We wandered down into the dark chambers under the White Tower and I listened to the twisted stones. These I could understand as they whispered about pain and despair. Why could I comprehend what these were saying and not the others? He caressed his rack lovingly before sitting on it and motioning for me to join him. _

"_I have been looking for suitable apprentice, milord. And you have just proven you have the knack even if you lack the love for it I was hoping for given your breeding."_

"_You flatter me above my worth."_

_Again the twisted smile "We will do great things together. If you acquire a bit more of taste for the work you might even surpass me one day."_

_I trailed behind him as he waxed eloquent on the joys of reducing men's spirits to wreckage. I really wanted to ask what he meant about 'my breeding' but I knew better to interrupt. Wind kept me updated on Sir Gregory (drooling) while I got a much more in depth lesson in the theories of torture as opposed to just observing like I usually did. Long before he was ready to finish I had to go for my lessons with Aschem. _

_A mild dose of on of Sadler's herbs ensured that Master Aschem would have no desire to chide me over my handwriting. Having cleverly carved out some 'free' time I slipped swiftly through the London streets intent on reaching Lord Montague's where the Poles would go down to the docks and depart for the Continent if I had to tie them up and drag them there._

_I came around a corner and found myself face to face with My Lord Privy Seal just as Wind blew me word that Skeffington was behind me._

'_Lovely timing' I whispered sarcastically. I was well and truly trapped between My Lord Privy Seal and his men in front and Skeffington and company behind. If I had had only myself to worry about I might have bolted but there were the Poles to consider. Perhaps I could still salvage the situation with wit if neither magic nor flight would serve._

"_Young Lord Tallyrand what are you doing here?"_

"_Master Aschem isn't feeling well. Since I…damaged Sir Geoffrey I thought I might try to redeem my error by searching Lord Montague's again."_

_He applauded lightly "You have talent, boy, there's no denying that but you aren't half as good yet as you think you are. Don't add insult to injury. It wasn't my eyes you were endeavoring to redeem yourself in." He looked past me. "He's your meat. Be very certain you teach him that it doesn't pay to be a traitor." Those bull dog eyes went back to me "You can't escape me, boy. Elves older and more knowledgeable than you have granted me your leash."_

_I didn't even let myself **think** it until Skeffington, his men, and I were nearly to the Tower – Cromwell was a dead man walking._

_Skeffington tsked as he sorted through his toys. I was a great deal smaller than what he was used to dealing with and that was presenting a touch of a challenge in terms of proper hardware. Given that I was personally in no rush to begin my first hand lesson in the proper breaking of a traitor this suited me quite well. I was on the other hand determined not to be a whimpering little git like Sir Geoffrey._

"_What were you thinking?" he asked as he tested a set of shackles. "Did you really think that good, decent, God-fearing nobles like the Poles would look on you with anything but contempt if they knew what kind of monster you really are? And I don't mean the pointy ears and dragon's eyes. You're like me boy." He'd finally located a set of restraints he thought could be modified to fit. "Not quite as twisted yet, but you were born bad, it's in your blood, no help for it. And I've seen you after a kill." He tightened the bonds and leaned over me so that we were eye to eye "Kindred spirits" he brushed a deceptively gentle hand across my face "I'm going to enjoy breaking you. Then to make certain that you've been purged of these foolish notions you've picked up I'm going to teach you the fate that awaits all good, decent, God-fearing nobles. Because good and decent is **WEAK**" he spat a little as he said it "And in this world the weak get devoured by the strong. But you won't have to worry about that because when I'm done with you you'll be ready to embrace your true nature and you are going to be magnificent" He picked up the device known as his 'daughter' "This is just hardware, you are going to be my greatest creation." His hot breath caressed my cheek as the realization struck like a lightening bolt. I had failed and the Poles were going to die because Skeffington was right, the good, the kind, and the decent didn't stand a chance against people like Cromwell. I had **failed** because I'd been trying to play by the wrong rules, the Poles' rules. The only way people like the Poles had a chance was if someone like me was willing to defend them on a level playing field with people like Cromwell._

_It's a very slippery slope, Will_ the Mallory-in-the-carchar wrote. _It isn't an easy thing to embrace the dark while fighting for the light. A few times I tried to walk away from it and be good and kind but there was always someone who needed saving. And far too often, as to my shame you will see, I slid down that slope and became a worse monster than those I fought. I am not a 'good man' Will though I do hope that I learned enough in my youth to be a good king when I get out of here. Henri would fight me tooth and nail about this but the truth is the only thread of hope the good of this world has is if the dark ultimately destroys itself. And I bind myself and my darkness to this by the Blood in my veins, when I get out of here I will find a way to destroy these monsters of my sire's that prey on that which is good and decent in Avalon and a curse on me if I fail or ally with them!_

_Of course at not-yet-six I had no idea the difficulties and the heartache I was flinging myself into. My entire focus was on not letting Skeffington really break me while making him believe that he had. I've never been terribly good at that. To proud I suppose in the end though it was there in the Tower with Skeffington that I truly came to understand the mind game that torture really is and made the first stumbling steps at learning how to beat it. We also made the mutual discovery that I'm fireproof which fascinated Cromwell and left Skeffington scrambling for alternative methods, but Skeffington was always good at improvising. While I was experimenting with speaking to Earth (without much success) and manipulating fire (with TOO much success) between bouts on the rake Geoffrey Pole was slowly putting enough of himself back together to be coherent. _

_I pretended to be engrossed with the little flame I'd been playing with as Skeffington practically swaggered into the cell. _

"_The hunt for your friends is almost up, maggot. You stopped too soon in your little game with Sir Geoffrey. He's **talking** again and he's telling us everything we'd ever wanted to know."_

_I glanced up at him defiantly. A fortnight of pain had taught me NOT to fear Skeffington, personally. He wasn't going to kill me, he wasn't going to do permanent harm; I was simply too valuable, anything less than those I could endure. I was beginning to wonder why I had ever feared him. _

"_He's lying" I shrugged "You know it, I know it, Cromwell knows it, the Poles are innocent. The White Rose Conspiracy is an excuse to commit judicial murder, nothing more."_

_Skeffington leaned against the wall, appraising me. I would have thought my continued defiance would anger him, instead it intrigued him, I had become a puzzle to be solved more than a challenge to be smashed. He still intended to break me he was just considering his next move and I was enjoying the lull between sessions on the rack. _

"_Cromwell wants me to get you ready for a reunion with your friends" he flicked his wrist and whatever it was in his hands jingled. It was his 'daughter'. We hadn't been formally 'introduced' yet since she was far more lethal than the rack. _

"_How many turns?" I asked with what I personally thought was a fair degree of nonchalance._

"_That depends on you."_

_I had to admit as blood oozed up from my nail beds, Skeffington's lass was a handy little device. I tried to concentrate on what Wind was saying to ignore the pain, but this little gadget of Skeffington's was BRUTAL. Worse than a flogging, worse than being beaten with bull pricks, worse than the rack. I felt a scream welling up and I used my healing talents to fuse my jaw shut. Skeffington was NOT going to get a sound out of me. _

"_Oh, lad" Lord Montague's voice sounded as sad as the lament of a crucifix angel "I told you not to do anything rash."_

"_RHYS!"_

_That would be Henry. Impressive bellow, had his voice started changing?_

"_LET HIM GO! You good for nothing blacksmith's bastard" I looked up as Henry's hands fumbled with the latches before the guards pulled him off._

_He fought with them but he hadn't been trained the way I had. He'd been trained for jousting and formal dueling not the dirty moves that would get you loose when four men twice your size held your arms._

"_Do you enjoy torturing children?" Lord Montague snapped, frostily, voice dripping contempt while still maintaining that stiff dignity of his._

"_I enjoy teaching traitors the error of their ways, regardless of their age. The boy was caught trying to warn you and since you are an attained traitor on his way to the block" Skeffington shrugged. "It will stop when he breaks and repents his error. Not a moment before" Skeffington sauntered over and lifted Henry's chin "Will you be as wise as your uncle, Sir Geoffrey, or will you have a stiff neck like your friend?"_

_Henry just stared at me "Let him go, you're killing him." He turned his gaze to Skeffington "What does it matter if you break him if you kill him in the process?"_

"_Don't worry about your friend, boy, worry about yourself. Take him, the boys stay here but make certain they have a good view. Normally this would be on Tower Hill for the crowds but we made an exception for your viewing pleasure."_

"_Father? FATHER!" Henry struggled ineffectively as Lord Montague was removed from the cell. Henry was shoved to the window before they came and picked me up. The shift in position ripped a cry from me before I could stop it but with my jaw fused it didn't matter anyway. I blacked out when they dumped me against the stones by the window._

_I come to to Henry's chant of no, please no and with my hair dripping._

"_Watch" Ralph snarled the bucket he'd dumped to rouse me still in his hands._

_I glanced down. They were leading Lord Montague to the block. He mounted the stairs with his head high, shoulders square. No hesitation, no fear, not even in his enaid, impressive or futily foolish, I wasn't certain which. _

_His voice rang crisp and clear "I swore an oath to serve my King, in whatever capacity he chose and while I might have whished he would have charted a different course for me **loyalty **and obedience to my sworn liege lord demand that I acquiesce. If my King names me traitor than traitor I must be even if I do not know my error. May God in his mercy forgive you all even as I forgive you."_

_He meant it, all of it. Mad man, he had to be. Henry sounded like a wounded animal (or a scalded cat) beside me. One of the guards drew fist to strike him and I unfused my jaw and snarled "Leave him alone." To my surprise, they did. At least until Skeffington returned. They carried him limp and unresisting to a cell, tears still rolling down his cheeks. _

_When they were gone Skeffington to tighten his 'daughter's' embrace, this was the opportune moment, do or die._

"_Please don't" it flayed my pride to the bone to let that much pain seep into my voice, to sound that desperate._

_Skeffington started, looked deeply into my eyes, and started to tighten it anyway._

"_Hold" My Lord Privy Seal commanded._

"_He isn't broken, faltering, perhaps, but **not** broken." **Not **faltering either I said very quietly even to myself._

"_You were given an order."_

"_You don't wound this kind and not finish the job any more than you bait an uncaged tiger" Skeffington argued._

"_Wait outside."_

_Skeffington left but he wasn't happy about it. I took my time getting to my feet when Cromwell set me loose. If I hadn't been a healer I would be a lot worse off than I was and I didn't want to tip my hand._

"_Why yield now?" he asked while we both looked out the window at the bloody block._

"_Why not?" I nodded stiffly to where they were dumping Lord Montague's body in a cart while the head was being taken for display. I watched his ghost mount the scaffold and die several times. "If that is the reward for doing what is 'right' then let me do that which is wrong. Who better than you to teach me?"_

"_Who better, indeed? Did you know once upon a time I was just like that fool down there?"_

_I glanced up questioningly; I could not image Cromwell being like the recently deceased Lord Montague. Henry had left a puddle of tears on the sill. I should have found a way to stop this. I should have. I should have made a way if one couldn't be found._

"_I was" he insisted, "I believed that if you followed the Commandments, served faithfully, and loved your neighbor as yourself God would reward and protect you. Damn fool" he cursed himself. "I had a wife I loved more than life itself. She was a good, gentle, kind woman, too kind, when the plague swept through London I wanted to take her and our young son into the safer country but she insisted on staying and nursing the sick until she took sick herself." He closed his eyes. In nearly three years this was the most emotion I had ever seen in him. Cromwell was normally a very cold man. He had a goal, he had a scheme, he accomplished it, it was all just 'business'. "She wanted prayers not doctors and I spent every cent I had to buy the prayers of the **papist**" he spat the word "church's priests only to watch her die by inches. And when she was dead the priests took everything I had and wouldn't even let me bury her in consecrated ground because I could no longer afford it. An Old Blood healer could have saved her but those healers bold enough to practice their Arts have been slaughtered by the Church and the rest are too terrified to help themselves much less anyone else. That has to stop. The Roman Church will never willingly suffer the Old Blood to live much less practice our Arts freely. So the Roman Church must be ripped down. Men with the Blood in their veins must rise to power once more. Make no mistake, boy, we are at war for our very survival, as we have been since Rome conquered Britain. It is time long past time for us to throw off Rome's shackles and walk freely under the sun, both your kind and mine." He knelt so that we were eye to eye "I don't hate those without the Blood. I married one. But I will not shirk from killing anyone who gets in my way. I take no pleasure in what happened here today, not in the death of Lord Montague or in the imprisonment of his young son and elderly mother. Rome deceived them but they would not turn from her and they might have undone all I have done. They HAVE to die. I had hoped that you would see this on your own and that I would not need to…chastise you. Given your Blood and your training I would not have thought you would find the Poles' philosophy very enticing, clearly I misjudged you. You may be young but you are no fool surely you can understand that allying with me is to your own advantage but if you can not then" he shrugged. We both knew that he would give me back to Skeffington and this time death and maiming would be real possibilities._

_I paused as if mulling it over "I would be a fool not to. What do I have to gain by allying with Rome? Or in having mercy on my enemies? Take what you can."_

"_And give nothing back" he nodded "then go and join the men packing up the Poles goods for the King."_

_I blinked at him in confusion. I had just been in Skeffington's daughter for hours most humans wouldn't even survive._

"_I told you, boy, you're good but not as good as you think. I missed it for a while because I didn't expect a healer from your Blood either. Heal yourself and go."_

_Walking through the gates of what had once been the Poles home was nearly as much of a blow as watching them sever Lord Montague's head. Maybe more because I'd been a bit distracted from the execution by Skeffington's daughter. As I joined one of the parties inventorying the King's new wealth I sent Wind looking for Cinders and when a playful zephyr reported her location to me I made certain I was in charge of that chamber. _

_As soon as she realized I was the only one in the room she uncoiled from her hiding place._

'_Fleet-feet, where is my two-leg?"_

_Cats are fascinating creatures, Will. They 'speak' with a clarity that surpasses that of any other animal, and it isn't just me anyone with even a trace of llwdn llafar, the animal speech, can speak to a cat. I think that is why they are so equated with witch craft. The only other animals that even come close are whales and dolphins. I suspect, though I have never tested this – that cats, whales, and dolphins, hunt more by ear than anything else. Of course if my theory is correct owls and bats should also speak very well but I have never tried to speak to either. I will have to rectify that when I get out of here. _

_Henry may have declared the kitten mine but she had declared him hers. I personally thought she was more likely to win the argument._

'_Men with a strange smell came and took him away. I could smell his fear.'_

'_They have locked him in a cage. Will you come with me?'_

_Eyes nearly as green as my own considered me before she started grooming. I turned to inventorying the room while the now gangly kitten carefully cleaned every paw making certain I could see her claws._

'_What is happening here?' she finally asked._

'_The biggest of the two-legs has sent his men to take everything belonging to your two-leg's father and make it his.'_

_She hissed, arching her back and growling 'No two-leg owns me!'_

_One of the first things I'd learned in 'speaking' to cats is they had people (though they emphatically didn't OWN them. Cats don't believe in ownership. They might have something for a little while but having a thing and owning a thing are not necessarily the same. I had never really considered the difference before Cinders' mother had rather condescendingly explained it when she gave me my 'proper' name of Fleet-Feet. To be honest I still don't really see the difference but apparently it is abundantly obvious to cats) people did not have them. Mitsy (Slays-Many-Mice) and Cinders (Leaps-High) were perfectly content to share Henry. Apparently, for some reason none of the many cats belonging to either the Poles or to their retainers would have me. I wondered if there was something wrong with me personally or if cats didn't have elves? _

_Slays-Many-Mice sauntered into the room, tail held high like a standard, complete with a not slain mouse for Leaps-High to practice her hunting technique with. Seeing me in the room she set the mouse down but stepped on its tail. The little animal's claws scrabbled frantically on the rushes._

'_Our two-legs aren't coming back are they?'_

'_No, some have already been killed. Some might be killed at any time.' _

_She quickly and neatly killed the mouse and ate it. 'Why are you here, Fleet-feet?'_

'_I wanted to warn you, the house has been sold already, new two-legs will be coming bringing their own hunters.'_

_She hissed, ears back, hackles raised 'Since my mother's mother's mother my line has hunted here.'_

_I shook my head 'It won't matter. Your two-legs have been overthrown, they will clear this house of everything that belonged to them.'_

_She growled 'They won't find me.'_

'_I ask your permission to take Leaps-High with me if she would care to go.'_

_I only received more grooming, from both mother and daughter this time so I went back to the inventory since it does no earthly good to rush a cat's decision._

_I sighed and salted the page taking the cats' silence as a no. What was so wrong with me that no cat would have me?_

_I was out the door and on my way to the Tower when a yowl stopped me. Leaps-High landed neatly on my shoulder not even digging her claws in enough to break skin._

'_You left withOUT me' she complained, indignantly._

'_I didn't think you were coming' I protested._

_This time she gripped tighter with her claws and then promptly ignored me in spite of riding on my shoulder._

'_We will have to be very careful' I said hoping she was at least listening despite her pique as I told her the whole of the sorry situation._

_I had decided that it was best I not appear too interested in the Poles who remained in the Tower so for the next several weeks I dutifully attended to my lessons and did my 'Master's' bidding as eager as a hound to please. It had taken a bit of snarling on my part but I'd carved out an agreement for Leaps-High among the Tower clan matriarchs one of whom had grudgingly allowed her to share her hunting grounds. People say that cats have no affection, loyalty, or society. This could not be further from the truth and those who believe it have simply spent too much time with those great slavering monstrosities known as dogs. Cats are not half so solitary as most believe and left to themselves form complex extended matriarchies. In cat society mother is EVERYTHING. And there are few animals more loyal and affectionate than a cat – on THEIR terms. A point which those hound enthusiasts never seem to comprehend is that while dogs slavishly wish to join our society with an eagerness that defies description cats are perfectly content with their own society. They befriend us they do **not** serve us. _

'_Fleet-feet when are we going to see my two-leg?' Leap-High asked from her perch. Speaking of perches, my sparrow had taken up perching on her head. When a cat allows prey to sit on her head because the prey is yours – that's friendship, as cats define it. While I had deemed it too dangerous for both of us for me to appear concerned Wind had kept me informed. I knew exactly where he was being held and that he was not taking his change from future count to penniless, friendless, condemned traitor well. He was far more upset about the loss of his father and the imprisonment of his grandmother than the loss of lands and titles though. So far his sister's marriage into the Stafford family had kept her safe but that could change in a heartbeat. _

_Henry Pole was being kept in very poor, nearly solitary conditions and his grandmother the Countess of Salisbury was being 'closely questioned'. Skeffington was having a great deal of trouble with her. Her health was apparently too frail (she was actually stronger than she appeared but no one had asked me and I felt no obligation to reveal it) for conventional torture and it was important she not die in custody without being properly attained. The old woman was popular at court and contrary to his words the King knew that if public opinion soured on him much more he would be a king without a crown so Skeffington to his disgust was forced to use kid gloves on her and he was too proud to demand my assistance for which I was grateful. Henry Courtenay (son of the late Henry Courtenay whose execution I had apparently missed in my brief blackout) was being held in far greater comfort with a riding instructor, fencing master, and a tutor. The difference was the King had liked Courtenay (in spite of the fact that he WAS actually guilty of treason) because he had been a 'meet and merry' companion while stabbing the King in the back with a smile. The staunchly loyal Lord Montague on the other hand simply hadn't been capable of ignoring injustice and while he had made no accusations his grim, unsmiling presence had been a thorn to whatever sliver of a conscious that the King still possessed. Rather than change his ways the King had destroyed the thorn with the added bonus of striking a blow at Reginald Pole. Cromwell wanted both youngsters dead but would never stoop to the treatment young Henry Pole was receiving, that was all the King's spleen. I wondered if he really thought a boy of not yet twelve was too young to go to the block or if he merely wished to keep a Pole on hand to torment at will._

'_Fleet-feet!' Leaps-High's meow was decidedly strident. I flicked an ear listening with every fiber of my being to the Wind and heard nothing to dissuade me from finally going to see Henry. The half-grown cat leapt neatly onto my shoulder not needing me to say a word to know that I was going to finally acquiesce to her request. _

_I came to a dead halt outside Henry's cell and restrained the urge to cuss the filth off the floor. Leaps-High hissed on my shoulder and I had to call my sparrow back. He perched on her head and tilted his head questioningly at both of us. There was an enchantment on the door. I hadn't a clue what it would do if I touched it. For all I knew Skeffington and Cromwell might have already been informed that I was outside the cell. I kept on walking, pretending that I had some business other than Henry in this part of the Tower. I wandered to the back side of his cell and glared at the stones. I could hear them but I could make no SENSE of it nor could I get them to acknowledge me. I spent several fruitless minutes trying again and then sank down onto the floor with my back to the blasted cipher of a wall. _

'_Pass…age…….wish……y..o..u….?'_

_The words were said so slowly that I could barely catch that they were words._

'_Yes' I barked back while trying to figure out which of the stones had replied._

'_?...?...?...?' Too fast, I'd been speaking to quickly for the stones to even hear much less follow. I tried again more slowly._

'_Pass….age…….to….Av….a…lon?'_

'_Where?' I thought as I finally found the right stone, it was a smaller one near the floor. 'No to the room on the other side.'_

_A pause so long I thought I had lost the stone._

'_Un……us……u…..al. I...was……..pa..r..t…..of….a….ga..te……to….Av…a…lon…..from…..he..re,…not…..fr..om…..he..re…..to…..he..re.'_

'_But can you do it?' as an afterthought I revised it to 'Would you do it?'_

'_Yesss'_

_With more than a little trepidation I put first one hand and then the other into the stone. Leaps-High pricked her ears up and then leapt right into the stone without so much as a by-your-leave (not that a cat would ever acknowledge that leave need be given anyway). My pride pricked by being upstaged by a half-pint feline I followed. It was a tight squeeze at best, Henry would never be able to take this road unless I found a way to widen it. I popped my shoulders through with difficulty and slithered into cell._

"_Who's there?" Henry sounded like broken thing already and in the dim light his enaid was a dull grey._

_I crafted the Shadow of a candle stub and topped it with a flame "It's Cinders and I."_

"_Rhys" Henry licked his cracked lips "Is this a dream?"_

"_No" I 'set' the 'candle' down and grasped his hand but he pulled me into a fierce hug. "You're real, you're here, you're still alive." _

"_You're freezing" I hissed as he wept in my arms. Warm, I had to warm him up before he caught his death of chill in this unheated cell. No sooner had I thought it then heat began to radiate from me like a brazier and I was ashamed I'd left him so long alone in this dismal place in the January cold. The damn cell didn't even have straw much less a blanket. _

"_Rhys" he whispered suddenly frightened "How did you do that? And how did you get in here?"_

_Now was the moment of truth, "I'm not really Lord Tallyrand." I let the Shadow drop "I'm a changeling."_

_He ran a trembling finger up one of my pointed ears "I guess we can't be brothers then" he whispered._

_I swallowed "Can we still be friends?"_

_I received a hard, suspicious glance in reply and then finally "At what price?"_

_That cut more than Skeffinton's whip "None but those that attend friendship." I rose ready to take my leave but Henry caught my hand._

"_Please stay" he swallowed again "You startled me and I spoke in haste. Please forgive me."_

_I studied his enaid but wasn't certain how sincere he was for this Henry Pole was no longer the boy who had caught me on the stair and I hated Cromwell and Skeffington for that._

_I folded myself back up on the floor and leaned against the wall letting the warmth that was still radiating from me soak into the stones so that they would continue to heat the cell even after I was gone. _

"_Why didn't you use the door?"_

_I glanced at it, "Cromwell must have someone who can cast spells because there is one on the door. I don't know what it's for, I don't know much about spells aside from being able to sense them."_

_He blinked at me "But you're an elf."_

"_I'm a **changeling** and no one has taught me anything," I scuffed the stones a little with my booted toe. "I can hear that the stones are talking but this one" I pointed to the one Leaps-High and I had come through "is the only one I can make understand me and that is because some other elf once upon a time put a spell on it." Leaps-High decided to demand a bit of attention for herself and Henry absentmindedly scratched her ears._

"_What is your real name?"_

_I shrugged "I don't know. An adult elf gave me to Cromwell. Every time I try to bolt he always catches me. He says another older, wiser elf gave him my leash."_

_Henry drooped "You're as much a prisoner as I am." He held Leaps-High so tight she meowed a complaint. "You should go. They'll hurt you again if they catch you." He loosened his grip and rubbed the cat gently in apology. "They told me you were dead too, that they'd killed you for trying to warn us. I don't want to be responsible for your death."_

_I grabbed his shoulders and gave them a little shake "You WON'T be. Anything that happens to me ISN'T **YOUR** fault. If I'm foolish enough to get caught that's MY stupidity, if they harm me for it than the fault is THEIRS. Don't blame yourself for any of this Henry Pole for you are entirely innocent. I WILL find away to get BOTH of us out of this" I swore. BOTH this time, this time no one gets left behind._

_I turned from him to the stone. "Can you only let something that is with me pass? Or can you be a conduit?"_

'_If….I….am……a..wa..ke,….I….can….let….any..th..ing…th..at….wi..ll…fit…..pa..sss,'_

"_What would help you stay awake?"_

'_I….ha..te….it….he..re. I…mi..ss….light…and…..lau..gh..ter….sun….and…song. I…wa.nt….to…be…in….a….gar..den…ag..ain…with…the….scent….of….ro..se..s.'_

"_If you will serve me, I promise I will get you out of here once Henry is free and return you to a place of beauty. Do we have an accord?"_

'_I…..mi..ss…..ro..se..s.'_

"_There is a Rose here."_

'_Th..is….is….no….pl..a..ce…f.or…a…ro..se.'_

"_No, it isn't. It will wither and die here if we don't save it. Will you help me save the White Rose?" Because that was what Henry was, the White Rose of York, with a truer claim to the throne than the man who called himself King._

'_I….wi..ll. Wh..a..t….wou..ld…..you…..ha..ve…..of….me?"_

"_Free passage for myself, this cat and this sparrow at all times and place within you to put anything this boy needs to hide inside you. We four, the Wind and no others."_

_The word Wind brought me chilled me to my marrow. The Latimers were here at the behest of Cromwell. I needed no words to know why. Should Henry Pole mysteriously disappear Milady Latimer would pay the price. How was I to save them both and myself? Cromwell must die but not by my hand. I had no doubts that that would rain fire on us all. I didn't know the extent of his network of Old Blood talent or what they would do if I killed him. To save us all I would have to outmaneuver the master of deception (or the Vicar of Satan as Reginald Pole was wont to call him) and manipulate the King into ordering Cromwell's death. This was not going to be swift or easy._

'_Do..ne.' I touched the stone feeling the 'shape' of it so that could decide if there was any way for me to leave a few creature comforts with Henry in his distress since this was going to be his home for some time. _

"The Rose Rock" Norrington sounded startled. He flushed slightly when we all turned to stare at him. "Back home on the family estate there is a Children's Garden and in the very center is a plain, pale stone, **that** stone, ringed with roses. One of the immutable family traditions is that the stone must never be moved or harmed and must always be surrounded by roses."

"Well, then" Jack observed, rings flashing, "we know that young Henry survived else me brother would likely have smashed the rock te bits, move along, whelp, we've only got all night."

I was less than eager to comply with Jack's urging but he had a point, our time was short and Mallory's ability to tie memories to only a handful of actual bloody (literally) words meant that what was in the journal was all out of proportion to its apparent length. I skimmed quickly over the tense months that followed as England prepared for war and Henry Pole and his grandmother became very meanly kept indeed but the King refused to kill them yet much to Cromwell's disgust.

Days turned into weeks, weeks became months as Mallory stalked Cromwell. Henry Pole languished with the cat as essentially his only companion since Mallory rarely had opportunity to visit as Cromwell filled every waking moment (and there were precious few allotted to sleep) with his quest to bring the Old Blood to power. It amounted to a purge with young Mallory well and thoroughly blood soaked in nearly a year of murder and intrigue. I paused finally over a passage….

_I snatched my hand back out of Leaps-High's reach as blood welled in the scratches._

'_What was that for?' I growled at the cat._

_She looked down her nose at me as only a cat can, 'You haven't gone to see him in weeks.'_

'_I don't WANT to leave him in there alone, but every time I go I risk both our lives and Milady Latimer's as well. I'll go when I get back.'_

'_You'll go now!' she snarled with a hiss._

'_That might impress your kittens but it doesn't impress me.'_

'_He needs you Fleet-Feet. And not just to send me with meat' she flicked her fluffy black with silver lining tail. Henry's rations had been reduced to little better than starvation so I had rigged a little harness for Leaps-High and with her consent had been using her as a courier of small but important items ever since. Until today she had bourn the burdens cheerfully. 'Who knows how long you will be gone to fetch this two-leg Queen, will you leave him thinking himself abandoned by his last friend? He'll deliver himself to the death your 'Master' has planned for him if you take his hope.'_

_I regarded the young cat sitting on the mantle. She had matured into such a stunningly beautiful creature that it was a shame I had had to wrap her in Shadow. (It wouldn't do at all for the guards to see her on her supply runs to Henry.) Her upper coat was a long silky black that was off set by the nearly silver under coat and touched here and there with tan. Did I really want to lose an argument with the cat? There would be no living with her if I did but I had a few moments before I needed to be out on the dock. I gathered a few things that would fit into the stone (I had, maddeningly, had no further luck in speaking to the stones of Henry's cell. I had on the other hand discovered that the gate stone was but a piece of what had been a larger stone. The rest of it could be found scattered throughout the Tower and I had reached accords with most of the pieces so that I now had five passages/bolt holes available to both myself and Leaps-High. _

_I twisted through the stone with the ease of long practice. I was surprised that Leaps-High's kittens WEREN'T in the stone. Had something happened to them and she had said nothing? I was still an uncultured barbarian as cats reckoned things so perhaps she had hinted at her loss and I had missed it. As I emerged on the other side I was treated to a rather depressing moment of deja-vu. Henry had gotten a feather from my sparrow and tied it to a bit of thread and was using it to play with the kittens. I hope Leaps-High had mentioned that my sparrow was NOT on the menu. And Leaps-High was right. It had been far too long since my last visit. Flame, Smoke, and Ashes (cats never get names until their first kill and they think we're quite foolish to name our children at birth) hadn't even had their eyes open last time I was here and now they were playing. Flame, the lone tom of the litter spotted me and made a flying leap attack. I caught the marmalade projectile and tried to pet him but he wanted to play so I let him squirm out of my hands. Smoke who had inherited her mother's black/grey coloring sans the tan accents fled to the far corner while the more calm and collected Ashes blinked big still mostly blue eyes at me from Henry's side._

_Henry smiled up at me but it came nowhere near his eyes. We'd had a few rocky weeks early on while he was mourning his father but then he'd perked up a bit, determined not to let Cromwell have the last word. That spirit was gone now, he was trying, I could see that in his eyes but despair was beginning to devour him from the inside out. It had been nearly a year since Henry had seen anything outside of these stone walls, since he had seen the sun and his last sight of that had been his father's execution. It was no wonder that his resolve was faltering, especially when I had made no real progress. I still knew nothing about the spell on the door, the stone was still too small for him to fit through, his escape would still mean the death of Milady Latimer, and while I finally had a plan that might serve to undermine Cromwell's credit with the King I doubted that it would be enough in and of itself and it could easily backfire on us all._

_And there was no getting around the fact that the room reeked since the guards had no incentive to empty the bucket frequently. As far as they were concerned Henry was a dead man and there was no one left outside that mattered who would protest on his behalf. His sister, eager to save her own hide, pretended he didn't exist, Mary (alias 'the Most Unhappy Lady in Christendom', I liked Mary but she had a terrible tendency to the melodramatic.) couldn't help herself much less anyone else, Cardinal Reginald Pole was continuing his one man mission to make things as unpleasant as possible for his family, and Geoffrey was busy somewhere on the continent attempting to drink himself to death. Cromwell did have a point about friends and family being unreliable at best. Given that Henry was anyone's meat I was surprised he had remained largely unmolested…except he hadn't. He'd been carefully presenting the unbruised side of his face to me. Damn them to the deepest depths of perdition! I chatted about inanities while I carefully studied his enaid and planned a suitable revenge on the trespassing guards. I would have to be quick and clever to deal with this before I left._

_I drew a deep breath. I had been feeling guilty about this since I had decided to do it but it was my best chance to turn the Mouldwarp against Cromwell._

"_I'm leaving on the tide but I'll be back soon."_

_Startled he turned full on forgetting to hide his split lip and blackened eye. I was a healer I knew how deep the damage went and most of it had nothing to do with the body. I cursed them under my breath starting with a relentless invasion of their nether regions by an astounding number of fleas and ending with their offending appendages rotting off due to leprosy. I was strangely light-headed and had to steady myself briefly. Flame flattened his ears to his head and pale grey Ashes joined her sister in the corner with their mother. I shook off the vertigo._

"_Why?" He looked shattered as he whispered the question. I had to get him out of here somehow, I had to, this was killing his spirit by inches._

"_I'm part of the new Queen's escort." I was reasonably certain that whatever the spell was on the door it wasn't actively reporting back to Cromwell but I dropped my voice to a whisper anyway "Cromwell has talked the King into this marriage against his better judgment. The King is wary of taking a bride he has never seen and Cromwell has spent much of his personal credit to woo the King to consent to the match. If she does not please Cromwell's head might very well roll." I pulled the dragon dagger from my belt and sliced my palm, letting the blood flow onto the stones "I swear on my blood I will return and see you free even if it kills me." I reversed the dagger and slapped the pommel into his hand. "Keep this as a surety until I return to claim it."_

"_Rhys" he protested staring at the blood dripping through my fingers from the deep cut that I was making no effort to heal. _

"_Though Death itself bar the way Henry Pole I will be back to win you free. I'm not one of those feckless fairies in those stories you tell. **I** don't forget my friends."_

"_I never doubted you" but he had I could see his shame in his eyes. _

"_What THING do you miss most?"_

"_The sunrise" he answered instantly. I hadn't ever really paid attention to one before but I did my best to weave one from Shadow and left it for him. I silently promised that I would pay more attention while I was gone and collect some for him when I came back. _

_Leaving Henry in that cell wasn't getting any easier. I paused on my way to the dock watching two of the guards hopping around in a frenzy, digging at their cods and wailing about fleas. Well, now wasn't THAT interesting. It was hardly PROOF that I had done something but it was suggestive. When I returned from going to fetch Anne of Cleves I would have to see if they had developed leprosy. _

I started flipping pages again, passing over the trip to Cleves, Mallory's frustration that while he managed to utterly destroy the King's marriage to Anne of Cleves Cromwell emerged a bit less secure but largely unscathed. In mounting desperation Mallory hatched a new plan.

_When I noticed that I was tapping the hilt of my dagger I forced myself to stop. It had nearly been a fatally stupid mistake to leave the dagger with Henry, not for me but for Henry himself. Just because suicide would have never crossed **my** mind in similar circumstances didn't mean that it wouldn't cross Henry's. I had meant the dagger to be a gesture of my sincerity, there were few **things** I held dearer and Henry knew that, but what I had left him was temptation to make a quicker, more certain escape than I could arrange. _

_I hadn't expected the Duke to keep me cooling my heels this long. Sir Thomas Wriothesley might not be a peer, but he was a rapidly rising star in the court and one of Cromwell's inner circle, not someone Thomas Howard, third Duke of Norfolk should lightly leave in the foyer. The real Wriothesley was sleeping off the drugs I'd slipped into his cup earlier so that I could use his face and name for this meeting. I was half hoping to get caught by one of Cromwell's agents just so Cromwell could order me to kill Sir Ferret Face. On further reflection I concluded that I was insulting the ferrets by associating them with Wriothesley. _

_I toyed with the idea of walking out since the Duke was clearly more interested in playing power games than in what 'Wriothesley' might have to offer. _

_A servant gave me a chary bow "His lordship will see you now" and led me to the library where the Duke and Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, waited. The bow I gave them was completely proper but ever so slightly mocking._

"_How kind of you gentlemen to make time in your pressing schedules for a humble servant of the King" the taunt was there for those who had ears to hear. Both the Duke and the Bishop were out of favor and even the debacle with the soon to no longer be Queen Anne of Cleves hadn't taken enough wind out of Cromwell's sails to give them a chance to worm their way back into the inner circle. Not that the Duke would ever REALLY be there. The King simply didn't like him. _

_Both men frowned, neither liking being reminded that they were not in the center of the court "Since your schedules are ever so full I will not trouble you further. Clearly you have no need of my news."_

"_Hold, let us not be hasty" the Bishop who had been Wriothesley's master before he turned his coat in favor of Cromwell "I have always been fond of you, my boy, and I always hoped you would return home."_

"_Raise ye up a child in the way he should go" I began._

"_And when he is old he will not depart from it" the Bishop finished with a smile that was one part smug satisfaction, one part wary, and one part old anger. "So you want to return to the fold now? Why? I thought you found the new learning very compelling."_

"_Cromwell is going far beyond denying papal authority" I paused and leaned forward lowering my voice and letting fear show in my eyes "Cromwell isn't Christian at all. He plans to raise someone from the Old Blood to the throne and he seeks an alliance with the Fair Folk."_

_The Bishop looked at me like I was daft but all color drained from the Duke's thin face and I thought he might faint before rage and anger the like of which I had never seen blazed through his enaid._

_The Bishop seeing his distress started to say something dismissive but the Duke brushed him aside and pulled a miniature from under his robes._

"_Have you seen this thing?"_

_I followed the still swinging pendant with my eyes. The features could be mine own in however many years it would take me to reach that age but the slit-pupilled silver eyes reminded me of Hers. His hair was blue too but much paler than mine. He wore a thick silver necklace of a style I had never seen. What answer would serve my plans?_

"_No" I settled on honesty "I have never seen him." My blood said kin though but for all I knew all elves but the one that had delivered my to Cromwell looked like me. "Who is he?"_

_The Duke's hand knotted around the trinket as if he could crush the elf it represented by grinding it to dust in his bare hands. _

"_He called himself the Prince of Avalon. They came in the night, years ago, he and his band of miscreants. With a word he bound me motionless and then toyed with my beautiful Anne like a cat plays with a mouse. He killed my wife, slowly right in front of me and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop him" _

_Anne? Anne who? The Duke was married to Elizabeth and their hatred of each other was legend. He beat her, she shrieked at him whenever they came within a hundred yards of each other which had confused me since looking at their enaids they should have been a good match. _

"_Not a damn thing" he repeated._

_And now I understood. The manner in which he had lost his first wife had poisoned his relationship with the second, had perhaps poisoned his whole life I reflected as I fit this new information into what I knew of him._

"_And then he stole our daughter for 'sport' to be hunted at his leisure."_

_My ears flicked forward. Could that be where I came from? Not from the Duke's daughter, there was no blood link between us, but could we have been the bastard half-breed children of some other captive? Was that why we had been abandoned to be hunted by Her and then when I survived that been cast out among humans? Was I an embarrassment to the family to be hidden here? If this man who hunted children for sport was my father though it would certainly explain Cromwell and Skeffington's confusion about me being a healer._

"_Sport" He repeated and I thought for an instant he might scream or weep or throttle the Bishop out of sheer frustration. Heaven help me if the Duke ever saw my real face. "As if we were no more than beasts." It sliced deep, what the Prince of Avalon had done, not just because he had lost his wife and daughter but because he was a military man. The Duke had led more than one army into battle, to be so helpless against another. I shivered, remembering Her silver eyes. "As if we were no more than dumb beasts." He rounded on the Bishop "Heretofore our differences with Cromwell have been minor things"_

_The Bishop looked like he badly wanted to protest that._

"_But make no mistake this is now a war for our very survival. No prisoners, no retreat, no compromise." _

_The Bishop clearly thought both of us were mad to even be entertaining the concept that the Fair Folk were real. The Duke now rounded on me._

"_He speaks highly of how clever you are, I assume you have a plan?"_

"_First and foremost we have to strip Cromwell of the King's protection before we can do aught else."_

_The Bishop snorted._

"_And you have a golden opportunity. All the spells Cromwell can muster won't make the King love Anne of Cleves." Apparently a good curse was better than all of the spells Cromwell's Old Blood could muster. Once Cromwell was out of the way I would have to try one against that cell door. "Once the divorce is over the King will wish to prove that his impotence in bed has nothing to do with himself and everything to do with Anne and he will be looking for a consort." Both these men were well aware of this and their eyes told me to get to the point._

"_I think the King will find your niece Catherine Howard most fetching at this time. He will be seeking a young, vivacious woman with the kind of…talents your niece possesses" None of us was willing to mention just how much 'help' the King needed from his 'lady' to 'perform'. Heads had rolled for less. But the Duke was clearly surprised to hear that young Katherine had experience. "But place her in the Queen's household and nature will take its course. The King will be wild to be free of Anne and Cromwell did his work too well, he will not be able to extricate the King easily nor will he be willing to believing knowing that he will be elevating a Howard to the throne."_

_The Bishop shook his head, "I hate him but Cromwell is no fool. He was the one that ended the King's marriage to Catherine of Aragon. He rode Anne Boleyn's skirts to power and discarded her when the King tired of her and sent her to her death. The man has no loyalty to anything but his own advancement."_

"_No, he has no loyalty to anything but his own **schemes**." I corrected "His advancement is merely a means to the ends. He will not make it easy for the King to back out of this repugnant marriage if His intended bride is a member of the Howard clan who is actually willing to advance your position at court." I didn't say that Anne Boleyn had actively worked against her Howard connections. I didn't have to. "And I think the King would be willing to entertain the notion that his love of Mistress Anne was an unnatural affection cast upon him by a witch. If we could further convince him that Cromwell supplied the sorceress…" _

_I let the thought trail off. It might things awkward for Bratty Bess but her mother was already a bitch and an adulteress and she was a bastard would the rumors of witchcraft actually make matters any worse? Not that I cared. I even had a scapegoat chosen. Of course the Duke wouldn't be content with just one but I had already shifted through as many of Cromwell's agents as I was aware of and had picked a handful to give up. Some richly deserved it, some simply didn't seem to be useful to me. A few that I hadn't selected would probably pay for this betrayal as well but those who came to the court had 'offered themselves on the alter of Fate'. _

_The Duke studied me "And what assurances do we have that you are not playing us false?"_

"_What surety would milord have?"_

"_Young Tallyrand."_

_Well, that was interesting, not to mention more than a touch awkward. _

"_Cromwell's ward?" the Bishop asked "He's but a child not yet seven."_

"_He is Old Blood" the Duke snapped back "and I intend to have him."_

_I had long suspected that the 'accident' that had killed old Tallyrand and his other children was no accident and I would bet money that the Duke had been involved. To pull down Cromwell I perforce must elevate the Duke, who would seek to kill me at the first opportunity. Four years in Cromwell's 'academy' had taught me a great deal, let the Duke do his worst, I could take care of myself._

"_Wait until Cromwell is gone and then simply petition the King for him" the Bishop said dismissively. "Besides Cromwell keeps the boy close, to steal him away would only tip our hands and put that wily fox on his guard. Let it lie."_

_The Duke held his peace but if nothing else I had learned I had a powerful enemy who was about to become a great deal more powerful but only as long as his niece Katherine Howard held the King's heart. It would not be long. I would see to that. I would use them to destroy Cromwell and then I would destroy them in their turn. _

I skipped over several pages noting how Mallory was ingratiatingly smiling to Cromwell's face while orchestrating his death.

_Strikes Boldly (the kitten previously known as Flame) was stalking a strip of fabric dangling from Henry's threadbare britches as we exchanged blows with the practice swords I'd brought with me. Henry's horsemanship and archery skills were perforce suffering from his captivity but I was determined that his swordplay wouldn't. We also practiced languages, music, and dancing when I could steal a moment's time and I regularly 'borrowed' books to be left with Henry. I decided not to tell Henry that he was about to be raked from behind since he REALLY needed to learn to watch his back. Speaking of which I checked the locations of the other cats; Leaps High was out hunting, Skitters (Smoke) was in her corner watching the fire I had burning in the opposite corner, and Waits Patiently (Ashes), my own personal favorite, was doing just that. If she intended to wait until I was distracted enough to let her 'catch' me she would wait a long time indeed. Waits was by far and away the best hunter of the four, better even than her mother already because she knew how to wait for the opportune moment as Cromwell was fond of saying. Unlike Strikes Boldly who I would have named 'too big for his britches' if it had been up to me. Yowler, the kittens father and the dominate tom in this part of the Tower, and I had come to an…understanding about Strikes Boldly. He was old enough that Yowler should be running him out of his territory but he was Henry's favorite and I was loath to see him loose anything else so for now Yowler was suffering the kitten to stay. Of course Strikes Boldly didn't see the situation for what it was and had gotten the notion into his adolescent cat head that Yowler was frightened of him. Silly ball of orange fluff. Speaking of silly balls of attitude (though this one of feathers instead of fluff), my sparrow came streaking through the stone, twittering about something but unfortunately I couldn't speak to birds nearly as clearly as cats._

_Henry let out a pretty good yowl himself as Strikes Boldly slashed his claws against his calf whilst claiming his prize. He drug the scrap off to his 'spot' to triumphantly 'kill' it. Henry whirled from the cat to me._

"_You knew he was behind me? And you didn't tell me?"_

_I shrugged "You need to learn to watch your back." I smiled to take the sting out of it but to my chagrin he seemed to just crumple for an instant before exploding._

"_What for! I'm never getting bloody out of here! I'm going to **DIE** lost and forgotten in this god forsaken **HOLE! **Why don't you just leave me to it? Why do you have keep coming back and getting my hopes up?"_

_He advanced on me with the wooden sword over his head. It would be funny if it wasn't so heart rending. I ducked several wild swings before capturing his hands._

"_I'll stay away if that's really what you want."_

_And he burst into tears "I'm sorry, Rhys" (At least that was what I think he said) "It's just so hard watching you walk out of here and stay trapped in here. I'm not a traitor. I didn't do anything wrong." And then the sobs became completely unintelligible but I thought 'didn't do anything' figured prominently. I wrapped my arms around him and tried to croon soothingly but I didn't really know how, that sort of thing didn't happen in my life._

"_I know you didn't. I know" I murmured into his hair as I could feel my failure to get him out of here like a loadstone around my own throat. Henry could have been an absolute monster or an angel and it wouldn't have mattered, all that really mattered was the blood in his veins. I glanced over at my sparrow who was hopping up and down to get my attention. I would really rather he didn't do that around the cats lest one of them finally give into their instincts and eat him. Without letting go of Henry I flicked my ears to catch the Wind and gazed into the fire. _

"_Henry" I shook him a little, as I wove Shadow so that he could see what was happening. "Henry, Cromwell is under arrest."_

_He rubbed one grubby hand over his eyes. The guards barely gave him enough water to drink leaving none for bathing. When I considered it safe enough I brought extra water but it was a rare occurrence and in spite of Wind scouring the cell both it and Henry reeked. _

"_It's over?" he whispered._

_I would have preferred to rip my tongue out by the root then crush his hopes but there was nothing to be gained by letting him think he would be walking out of here today._

"_It is a beginning" I said "We will have to wait until his execution for me to attempt to defeat the spell on the door."_

"_That could be YEARS, Rhys. Try it NOW."_

_I shook my head "And what happens to both of us if he sends his men after us? As long as he is alive there will be those willing to obey his commands."_

_He went pale "I'm sorry Rhys. It's easy to forget how much you're risking to help me. It must, it must be very hard for you since he's the closest thing to a father you've ever known."_

_I watched the Duke and the Bishop strip him of the symbols of his rank and turn him over to the Guard in little more than an undershirt and hose. He was going to his death and I was the one sending him there regardless of who signed the order. Henry thought that should bother me. It didn't. I was also sacrificing the Old Blood's best opportunity to return to power, or at least parity. That would have bothered me if I had actually believed it was possible. _

_I decided not to answer the question since my lack of emotion would only upset Henry further._

"_Once he is dead, which should be soon since I intend to instill even more fear of sorcery in the King, I will test myself against the door. If that fails then I find another way. Cromwell is the one who was pushing for your death. If your uncle would desist in annoying the King, perhaps I could convince the soon-to-be Queen to intercede on you behalf. The King wouldn't release you but he might be convinced to at least let you out for air and if I can make certain Skeffington is otherwise engaged then I can easily get us both out regardless of the spells on the door. The only way to get you safely out of here is by hiding you in Shadow and I can't do that as long as Cromwell is alive. I'd rather be struck dead and damned than leave you in here Henry but we have to be smart about this because we're only going to get one chance."_

_He nodded. His head understood, the only question was, would his heart survive?_

_Hugs weren't something that I gave or tolerated but I gave him one anyway before leaving to meet Cromwell at the Watergate. _

_I HAD to get just the right mix of restrained panic and worry down. If I was sloppy here Henry and I were both dead. Cromwell gave me a couple of hand signals on the way to his cell telling me to contact him later. I rushed to Skeffington instead who was in a rare state of agitation. Generally speaking nothing rattled Skeffington but I could see the flash and fire in his enaid. _

"_Betrayed" Skeffington growled at me as I came through the doorway. I knew better than to dodge when he backhanded me into the wall. While I was still dazed he swung me around and lifted me by the throat. Damnation they knew! Just as I was about to cast all caution to the Wind and attack Skeffington he growled "You sloppy little maggot. It's your bloody job to listen for this sort of thing and warn us. How many bloody times have I told you sloppy gets you killed? Well, this time it's My Lord Privy Seal that is the one paying the price for your sloppiness." He slammed me against the hard enough to shatter ribs and I could taste blood. "You cost us the best chance we've had in generations and when I'm done with you, you are never, ever going to forget that sloppy gets you killed." Lovely, another beating, whatever, it wasn't like he hadn't been doing that for years._

I skipped over most of it. I didn't want Elizabeth to see.

_I swayed on my knees with spots dancing before my eyes as the thought that he was going to beat me to death flashed through my progressively foggier thoughts. His face filled my whole world "Why is this happening to you, maggot?"_

"_Sloppy"_

_He slapped me and for a breath I was completely blank._

"_Speak clearly."_

"_I was sloppy."_

"_And what does sloppy do?"_

"_Sloppy gets you killed."_

_He looked at me expectantly but I couldn't think of what he wanted, could barely think at all as I hovered on the edge of consciousness. _

_He sneered at me, "I thought you were smarter than this, maggot, Master. Sloppy gets you killed, Master."_

_Sloppy was going to get me killed. I had spent all my time figuring out how to elude the Duke and hadn't spared a thought for how Cromwell's fall would change the dynamics between Skeffington and I. He was waiting. I must have paused too long or he saw the hesitation in my eyes because he hit me one more time and the darkness claimed me. _

_I shook the water out of my eyes and swallowed a groan. I ached in places that as a mere apprentice torturer I hadn't been aware I had. _

"_Get moving, maggot, you have work to do."_

_It was the darkest hour of the night, after midnight but no where near dawn which meant I'd been out for hours. It took three tries to get to my feet. I wanted to toss my shoulders back and fuse my neck vertebrae if that's what it took to keep my head up. I might have made that fatal mistake if I had had the strength to do it but I HAD been healing myself during the beating and Skeffington had pummeled me until I had nothing left. Even now it was taking everything I could muster just to stay vertical. And this was hardly the opportune moment to move against Skeffington. One thing at a time, Cromwell first, he was the both the one holding my 'leash' and targeting Henry. Once I had been made aware of the possibility of a 'leash' I had discretely gone looking for it. I thought I had found it, a gossamer strand of power that connected Cromwell and I. I had been very careful NOT to disturb it. I had assumed that it would disperse with Cromwell's death but had considered the possibility his death might do me some harm. I had accepted that as a reasonable risk but had never in my darkest nightmares considered I might simply be exchanging Cromwell for Skeffington. That was like jumping out of the proverbial frying pan into a raging volcano in full eruption. Skeffington set the bucket that he'd poured some of the contents of over my head and nodded to what was left._

"_Clean yourself up, maggot. You need to be in Cromwell's cell within the hour."_

_I glanced up in surprise "We're going to rescue him?"_

_Skeffington drew back his hand to hit me again but stopped and growled "What's in your head, maggot? Do I need to beat more sense into you? Where are you getting these mad notions? In the court anyone who falls behind is left behind. There's no place for sentiment here, maggot. But Cromwell will stay true to the cause and he'll have much you need to know." His eyes narrowed "It's a sad state of affairs but you are now our best hope and if you fail **NOTHING** will save you from me. Get going."_

_I made a quick stop in the privy along the way and shuddered at the nearly black with blood urine I left behind and felt the fear of Skeffington I had thought I'd conquered rebloom. I crossed the grounds at a snail's crawl, slower even than pace at which everyone else moved. Every step was a trial as my vision wavered and darkened._

_I fumbled picking the lock three times, nearly dropping my tools and alerting the guards (who I noted were NOT Skeffington's men) to my presence. Now **THAT** would have been sloppy. Wind swallowed the sound of the door opening and I only just managed to hold together the Shadow that hid the opening of the door. I sank down against the door struggling not to pant. _

"_Boy?" Cromwell asked. By longstanding arrangement Wind kept anything said between us from prying ears so I didn't even bother trying to mask his voice._

_It took more effort than I would have ever dreamed possible just to light a candle and hide its light from the barred window in the cell. _

_Cromwell went pale and crossed himself in the papist manner. I must have looked truly ghastly for him to unthinkingly make THAT sign in response. He started to reach for me and then looking at the bruises thought better of it and reached for his water bucket instead. _

"_What did Skeffington do this to you for?"_

"_He said you were going to die because I was sloppy and that he would make certain I remembered to never be sloppy again."_

_Cromwell sighed heavily "This isn't your fault, Boy. **I** must have trusted someone I shouldn't have."_

_I had to force myself not to look down or away. I'd put him here but I didn't dare let him know that yet. The time would come, I promised myself, for gloating, to ask him who was better now, but not until the end. _

_He ripped a strip of clothe from what was left of his finery, soaked it gently in his meager water ration, and started, ever so gently, to wipe the crusted blood that had survived Skeffington's dousing from my face. It was a strange sensation. It hurt and yet it felt good. I blinked at him fighting to keep the confusion off my battered face. Was he genuinely concerned about me? Or was I simply too important to lose? Or was this just him softening me up for something? _

"_Get some sleep, Boy" he said while nodding to his own pallet. I started to protest that Skeffington had sent me to learn and I had no intention of failing him again so soon. Seeing my reluctance he restrained another sigh "Boy, you're no good to any of us dead. I'll see to it that Skeffington remembers that point." There was something odd about Cromwell tonight. Perhaps it was just the arrest and the reversal of his fortunes. There was no desperation about him, resignation perhaps, and yet he seemed very different. He picked up the writing supplies I had brought in case he wanted messages sent. "We will talk after you have had at least a few hours rest."_

_Now that I had permission to sleep again crossing the chamber seemed like far too much effort. As my nearly swollen shut anyway eyes closed I vaguely registered a pair of hands scooping my up and laying me on the pallet._

_I awoke with a start. It wasn't dawn yet but it wouldn't be long. I still felt like I'd been trampled by a horse but I was at least clear headed. As I moved to sit up my hand curled in Cromwell's shirt which he had clearly removed to cover me with since there were no blankets in the chamber. The man himself looked up from his writing and studied me with his bulldog eyes. Apparently I looked better but not well because instead of having me join him he rounded up all the writing supplies and joined me. _

"_Take this to Cranmer" he said handing me the first one. "I'm asking him to take you under his wing and blunt the edge of Skeffington's…enthusiasm."_

_I blinked at him "Cranmer?" Cranmer, who rattled in his boots in my presence and nearly pissed himself if Skeffington even glanced at him, was supposed to protect me from Skeffington. That was like setting a rabbit to guard a bear cub from a wolf. _

"_You have instinct, Boy, and talent but you lack subtly and experience. Cranmer is, himself, no match for Skeffington, but the King loves Cranmer and will do all that he can to please him."_

_I had to grant him that point, the rabbit would be backed by the Lion, the one person in England Skeffington would give way before because the King was utterly infatuated with the Archbishop, not in a lustful manner but in a friendship that was, in all honesty, deeper than the one between Henry and I. For God's sake the Archbishop had MARRIED and managed to retain royal favor in spite of it. I had planned on appealing to the new Queen but the King had already proven just how fickle his affection for women could be. Best to hedge my bets, listen to Cromwell, and do both. _

"_Leave the bruises even when you've regained the strength to heal them and let them show."_

_I bridled at that. I wasn't a baby, if it wasn't for Henry I would have no trouble at all taking care of myself. _

"_How many times, Boy" Cromwell said with a strange blend of gentleness and stern censure "have I told you not to let your pride rule you?"_

_This time I sighed. Boys were beaten all the time, spare the rod and spoil the child and all that, it would take something truly brutal like the battering I'd taken from Skeffington to garner sympathy and as much as it galled me that WAS the bloody point of slinking to Cranmer. I leaned against the wall and watched Cromwell's enaid. I thought I recognized fear, dread, frustration, and sorrow all of which I expected given the circumstances but there were other things as well that were less easily defined but if I had to guess I would call relief. Was Cromwell **happy** to have failed! He was certainly more relaxed as if a great weight had been taken from his shoulders. _

"_Better" he said approvingly "Now take these and go. We will have a few weeks before my" he paused stumbling over the thought of his death "We have a little time yet. You don't have to learn everything tonight." But he stood above me looking down "It's no easy task I'm leaving you, Boy, and I'm sorry for that. The King has no real love for the Reformation so you will have to be clever to keep the pressing the cause. Remember the more division you can sow among the Christians the easier it will be to reestablish the Old Ways. Divide and conquer."_

_I paused outside the cell looking back. Yesterday it hadn't bothered me a bit to send Cromwell to his death today I was less certain._

_And I still am. Mallory in the carchar wrote. There was no way to save Henry without killing Cromwell. The truth is Will if I was the Prince I should be instead of the one that I am I would have killed Henry myself. Princes and Kings should be able to set personal feelings aside and serve their people and policies regardless of their affections. _

The next words were written in a 'whisper' _I can't do it Will. I've tried, more than once through the years, and I just can't. I wish there was another heir because Avalon deserves someone better than me but there isn't and even at my worst I'm better than Him. I think, perhaps, that is what I was supposed to learn from Cromwell because with the exception of your Dark Lady I've never met anyone better a setting their own personal desires aside for the sake of a cause. I've never been any good at fighting for causes only for people. Cromwell was a lot like your Dark Lady. I can't decide if they were the best or the most evil people I've ever met. No cruelty in either of them or pettiness which is more than I can say for myself but they're both so dedicated to their causes that they've forgotten how to be people. And yet they're not so obsessed that they can't see the full effect of their deeds not that that would turn either of them aside. I think either of them are (or were as the case may be) capable of sending the world spiraling into chaos without batting an eye if it would serve their purpose and yet both were (or are) dedicated to making the world a better place as they define it. Such arrogance and yet I find myself respecting both of them for it. I had intended to gloat at Cromwell's execution, to see his despair as he realized just how lost his cause was but it was too petty and while I never gave myself to his cause as he would have wanted, in the end I did cleave to the Protestants not that it did much for his beloved Old Blood in the end. _

I skipped over a few paragraphs and paused over his meeting in the afternoon with Cranmer.

_I had to make myself move stiffly and slowly, after all I was supposed to be a poor battered soul trying to garner sympathy. I wanted to toss my head high and prove that on little beating couldn't bother me but that wouldn't serve my purposes. I paused in surprise when the Wind bore me a second voice speaking with Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, Milady Latimer. What was she doing here? Lord Latimer was staunchly moderate while Cranmer was most definitely in the more radical camp but she would hardly be the first wife to fly further than her husband would have liked. _

_Cranmer frowned as he recognized my livery. He had thought he and Cromwell were staunch allies (the truth was he had been one of Cromwell's best and most useful pawns) and my presence reminded him that the Protestant cause had just lost its most powerful advocate. The frown deepened furrowing his brow when I came near enough for him to get a good look. I was supposed to cringe like a whipped hound but I just could NOT do it. I settled for stiff dignity. Tears welled in Milady Latimer's eyes. Hell be damned but I didn't want pity so I forced myself even straighter before bowing low. _

"_My Master" officially the attainder wasn't finished so Cromwell's rank was in legal limbo, but it was best to simply avoid all references "Sends you this."_

_Cranmer was clearly torn. His own position was tenuous if there was going to be a general purge against those in favor of the Reformation and it was borderline treasonous or at least unwise to accept a message from an accused (and nearly condemned) traitor but Thomas Cranmer was, at his core, far too gentle and decent soul for the court. All that had kept him alive this long was the King's 'love' (a fickle thing) and Cromwell's cunning. I, personally, didn't think he would last long without the latter in spite of the former but I only needed him until I could win Henry free. He took the missive and read it, slowly, excruciatingly slowly. How could I have forgotten that about him? Ned was not yet three and I swore he was faster reader than Cranmer. From the way his fingers kept twitching I assumed he was missing his quill as well since the man seemed incapable of reading anything without making copious margin notes. Since we'd likely be here until tomorrow morning I turned my attention to Milady Latimer who I was disconcerted to discover was gazing at me intently. I straightened a bit more tilting my chin up neither desiring nor needing pity. _

_But pity wasn't what showed in her eyes and kindness seemed far short of what did. I wanted to observe her but Wind bore me word that the King in the company of Mistress Howard was approaching and Cranmer wasn't finished reading the letter and he was about to be caught with the potentially treasonable missive. I drew a deep breath ready to flee should the situation turn ugly but reluctant to do so before Milady Latimer. _

_The King was all smiles. He was, after all a man drunk on love, or infatuation at the very least, convinced that he was young again. Cromwell had often said everything was a matter of perspective and that the human talent for self-deception was infinite. I questioned infinite but the King clearly thought he'd shed 20 years and 10 stone, which was a damned impressive bit of self-deception. Mistress Howard was her typical vacuous self with not a care in her head but fine gowns and dancing. She smiled prettily for the King but had no love for him. It wouldn't be difficult at all to lead her astray and when she fell odds were good she would take her uncle the Duke with her. All I had to do was survive long enough for the Duke to finish Cromwell's destruction and then destroy him before he could destroy me and while I had alternate plans should I fail to make either Katherine Howard or Archbishop Cranmer (provided he survived the day) my champion I NEEDED this to work. As one we bowed to the King._

"_Rise, hale and well-met goodly gentles all."_

_Cranmer drew a deep breath and began to pass the letter to the King "Cromwell"_

"_We have no desire to hear his pleas."_

"_This one is not for himself, but for the boy."_

_The King and his current paramour really looked at me for the first time. Mistress Howard paled and swallowed as pity bloomed through her enaid. God but this was HARD, harder than the beating itself in some ways. I HATED being seen as weak. _

"_You granted his wardship to Cromwell. Apparently some of Cromwell's erstwhile servants are feeling a bit frustrated and are being a bit indiscriminate about whom they punish."_

"_Milord" Mistress Howard breathed a plea of her own. She might be an idiot, but she was a kind-hearted one. I made note of that, perhaps if I couldn't breach the spells on the door she might convince the King to let Henry out of his cell for exercise which would allow me much more flexibility in rescuing him especially if Skeffington was disciplined for his behavior. _

_The King gently kissed the tip of her nose "We will not have your tender petals bruised, my thornless rose."_

"_May I become young Tallyrand's ward, your Highness?" Milady Latimer surprised us all with her request as she laid a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder._

"_Milady?" _

"_Latimer" _

"_Ah, John Neville's wife then" the King looked on her long before acquiescing to her request. _

_That was the first time that great lump of putrid flesh ever noticed Milady Latimer. It shames me that it was on my account. He was at the time thoroughly smitten with Mistress Howard but after her execution he would remember Milady Latimer._

I flipped past a number of pages mostly dealing with joining the Latimer household, dealing with 'Bratty Bess' and Anne of Cleves, and Cromwell's execution which had been…messy. No need at all for Elizabeth to see THAT in her delicate condition. I stopped for the shriek.

_I hit the stones next to the door again since I couldn't hit the door itself. Couldn't even bloody TOUCH it. Cromwell was DEAD and I was no closer to getting Henry out. What was I going to tell him? How could I even face him? Whatever the spell was on the door I had no idea how to get it off. I snarled if I couldn't get in then I would just have to get Henry out, somehow. I whirled, time to see if Mistress Howard, now Queen of England could be swayed to help. _

I continued flipping noting that the young Queen had only managed to get the King to approve some new clothing for the former Duchess of Salisbury and her grandson much of which Mallory stitched himself. And that it had now been two years since Henry had been allowed out of his cell, indeed since the door had been opened since the food and jakes bucket went through a smaller door. I paused on another passage that I recognized very well from a few nights ago, the execution of the Duchess.

_I caught her sleeve "Why won't you help me? Why won't you help HIM? He's your grandson, your ONLY grandson. Don't you care that he goes to the block after you?"_

_She pulled her sleeve from my hand, firmly but without yanking and looked down her nose at me. _

"_You know NOTHING, child, less than nothing. I have lost my father, brother, and son to the block. I watched my brother ROT in this Tower before he went to the block as innocent of the charges against him as my son was and I and my grandson are. My father was a guilty as sin but that isn't why he was drowned in a vat of his favorite wine. He died for the same reason we will for the blood in our veins." She paused for a moment and I double checked that Skeffington couldn't spot me in my awkward perch. He was watching Henry "What will you do boy? Drain the blood from his veins? Because that is the only way he will ever be safe. Better that he die now than live for more years in that dank cell."_

_I licked my lips. She truly believed Henry could never be safe. And why shouldn't she, every male member of her family had been condemned to a traitor's death even if it hadn't caught up with her son Reginald yet. Niece of kings no one knew better the dangers of royal blood. I couldn't get to Skeffington without a blood bath and I couldn't steal Henry away from here without either distracting or killing Skeffington. The thought of what he would do to me if he caught me was a cold knot of dread. I couldn't keep letting the fear of Skeffington rule my life but now was not the opportune moment. But it might have to be if I couldn't sway Margaret Pole, Duchess of Salisbury. I would have kill Skeffington first because I had discovered to my chagrin that not only could he See through my Shadows he could shatter them so others could see the truth._

"_But he can be safe" the fear was like ice in my own veins as I dropped my Shadows. "I am NOT young Tallyrand." _

_While she blinked at me in shock I pulled my dark dragon dagger from its sheath and laid my right palm open to the bone. "And I swear by my **own** blood I will see your grandson safe. If it can not be under the name of Pole then it shall not be. Will you help me?"_

_Her eyes narrowed "What do you want with my grandson elf?"_

_I watched the blood drip through my fingers "He is my friend. I only want him to live long and well. I swear to you I mean him no harm nor do I seek to ensnare him."_

"_You would make him a Changeling, like yourself?"_

_I nodded._

"_What do you need from me? Why not just take him?"_

_I nodded to Skeffington "Because, like Cromwell, he can see me, he can stop me."_

_She sighed "Then you are as much a prisoner as we."_

"_Cromwell thought that" I let her see his death in my eyes. She crossed herself._

"_I will consider your request if you can swear to me that, first what you intend will not endanger either I or my grandson's immortal soul."_

"_It will not" I swore easily._

"_You will kill no one else to save the boy."_

_That was harder but I nodded desperate at this point._

"_And you will at least make him a gentleman."_

"_I so swear"_

"_What is it you need of me, elf?"_

"_I need your death to be so horrid that those men will refuse to see him follow you to the block. I need **time** to arrange matters."_

_She swallowed. These men had seen more than one friend, enemy, or compatriot go to the block. They had dined while men burned. Most of them were not strangers to stretching men on the rack or flogging them bloody. Rousing their sympathy would be no easy task. I could use Wind and Shadow to help but ultimately the Duchess would be giving up a relatively quick and easy death for something savagely brutal that might not work. She was wavering. She wasn't going to do it._

"_Will you rob him of his only chance?" I whispered a plea. I sidled behind the other spectators careful to stay out of Skeffington's sight while watching her with baited breath. Would she? Wouldn't she? I slid carefully between the spectators trying to figure out how I could cleanly take out Skeffington if the Duchess failed me. _

I used my hand to shadow the rest of the page. I knew from watching the beginning of her mad dash the other night that she would choose to give her grandson a chance to live. I also knew that Mallory had called her death ugly and messy. I didn't want to see it and neither my wife nor my unborn daughter needed to either. There wasn't much room left on the page but Mallory had proven just how much he could pack magically into a few words, hopefully the Duchess would be dead by the next page. I flipped it quickly and glanced down.

29


	26. A Prince of Avalon

**Author's notes:** First and foremost a hearty thanks to all my reviewers! (Little Bird I've replied to you at the bottom). Second please read the historical notes and dedication at the bottom of this chapter. And third since I haven't done this in a while, anything you recognize from PotC belongs to the Mouse. I've just borrowed for personal amusement and am making no money from this….

**BOA: Chapter 15 (part 3): A Prince of Avalon**

"_How could you!" Henry shrieked at me, voice cracking across several octaves._

"You skipped the execution!" Elizabeth snapped, glaring at me.

I looked up "Did anyone else want to see an innocent nearly 70 year old woman get hacked to quivering bits?"

The Governor looked ill at the mere suggestion, Jack was clearly mulling things over and essentially ignoring me, the erstwhile Commodore shot Elizabeth an apologetic glance and shook his head slightly, and Mr. Not Cotton's parrot said "Becalmed".

"I'm afraid you've been out voted in true pirate fashion." When she started to pout I reminded her "Haven't you told me dozens of times that the democracy traditional among pirates is actually more civilized than our own law-abiding government?"

Jack winked at me while Elizabeth sulked and I went back to Henry.

_He backed into the far corner of the cell with the cats twining themselves around his ankles meowing comfort that he ignored getting as far from me as he could. _

_Strikes Boldly (otherwise known as Flame) yowled and launched himself toward me, back arched, claws unsheathed._

'_What did you DO to my two-leg!'_

'_Nothing, I didn't do anything. The Fat One ordered his mother's mother murdered and had him watch.'_

_Strikes Boldly growled deep in his throat, eyes glowing, ears back. You simply DIDN'T harm or speak ill of a cat's mother, not even to grown kittens. 'Where is he?'_

'_Far away, up the Thames. You would need a grass-eater to reach him.'_

_Strikes Boldly whipped his orange tail and put his nose up '**You** might need one of those silly bony-headed, fumble-footed grass-eaters to get around since you insist on walking about like a two-leg but **I **wouldn't!'_

'_Your two-leg needs your presence now more than he needs you to go scratch The Fat One.'_

_Strikes Boldly hissed 'I'll do more than scratch him.' _

'_Later' I yellowed back 'he NEEDS you now.'_

"_Quit badgering my cat Rhys." Henry snapped from his corner of the cell. Strikes Boldly shot back and scaled Henry with the ease of long practice so he could sit on his shoulder. "And get out."_

"_Henry" I protested._

"_I don't want ANYTHING from you, ever again." He shook his head "You USED her. How could you do that to her? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you pointy eared devil did you see what he did to her?"_

_I swallowed hard as my gorge rose. Given everyone else's reaction I had had to let Henry see something but I had tried to cast a separate Shadow for Henry. I hadn't been certain at the time that it had worked but I knew now that he hadn't seen the worst of it. So I could spin Shadow so that different angles perceived things differently, interesting, very interesting. _

_I was very careful not flick my pointy ears back. "I know that I ASKED her to give you a chance. To buy me a little more time to get you out of here."_

"_Time. More time, more delays, all I have is time and I'm sick of it" he paused "You should have let me go to the block."_

_He meant it. He really meant it. It was like being handed an apple and being told to sew with it. I just couldn't seem to fit my head around the idea that he would rather die now than to suffer a little longer in hope of a brighter future. I could almost understand if the Countess and Henry's positions had been reversed. She had been OLD but Henry was only a few years older than me. We had decades in front of us. I had to convince him somehow._

_I pulled the black dragon headed dagger that was all I had of where ever it was I came from. I wrapped his fingers around the pommel and laid the point against my breast. He tried to pull back but while I might appear (who knew how old I really was) seven or eight years younger than his fourteen but I was already stronger. _

"_Rhys are you mad? What are you doing?"_

"_If you really think I've wronged you then take your vengeance."_

_He tried ineffectually to squirm out of my grip "I don't want to hurt you Rhys. What is it with you and sharp objects?" He glanced down and swallowed "Whose blood is that?"_

"_Mine" I retorted. "I swore a blood oath to your Grandmother that I'm going to get you out of here."_

"_But at what price, Rhys? You've already killed Cromwell"_

"_I thought you hated him" I protested._

"_I hated what he was doing to my country that doesn't mean I wanted him to die for me." He looked at me "You have no guilt do you?"_

"_For what?"_

_He shivered in my grip "No one else, Rhys, no more blood on my account. Swear to me."_

"_That was one of your grandmother's conditions." I could see a shift in his enaid and I released his hand. "And that I not endanger your immortal soul." I let the challenge show in my eyes "You can keep the dagger as long as you won't make me an oath breaker." He jammed the blade into the sheath I offered him eyes full of anger and resentment. _

"_Get out and don't come back until you can walk through that door."_

_I wanted to argue but I spun on my heel instead and passed through the stone. _

_I wandered the grounds aimlessly finally stopping outside Never Free's enclosure. To the humans of the Tower he was Edward since all of the lions were named after the royal family. Superstition held that the cats lived and died with their namesakes. The truth was the cats rarely lived more than a few years and were secretly replaced. Henry VIII had died twice already in the five years I had been here. Never Free was the only one whelped in the Tower. The other lions couldn't decide if he should be pitied because he had never run free or envied because he had no idea what they had lost. Sometimes I would send the Wind to bring me the sounds of the great savannahs to the South where the others had been born and I would try to craft Shadows to match. The lions found my attempts amusing and with the exception of Never Free regarded me fondly. Never Free hated me with a single minded passion and I simply couldn't resist testing my speed against his claws. So far he hadn't managed to so much as snag a thread. The derision the other lions heaped on him for his fumbling certainly didn't endear me to him either. Cromwell had caught me at it once and had fits. Skeffington found it amusing and would occasionally toss me into the cage. Never Free snarled at me but knew as well as I did that I was out of range. I glanced over at the newest 'Henry VIII'. I doubted he would last the year. He wouldn't even tell the other cats his name. Still alive and already dead, the next time Milady Latimer had me join her at prayers I would pray that I never saw that look in Henry's eyes._

"You skipped over Mallory playing with the lions earlier?" Elizabeth protested.

"Not that I saw" I started to flip back but Jack stopped me.

"We only have tonight, whelp, and as much as I'd like te have a long talk with me brother about 'reckless behavior' and his own double standards and hypocrisy this isn't the opportune moment. Let's keep going forward, if we've time later we can back track."

As I looked down though I could have sworn I heard Jack mutter "Chide me about reckless behavior will ye? I never tossed meself te the lions intentionally."

_Sharp Wits (Elizabeth) glanced at me hopefully whiskers and ears both turned in my direction but Antelope Slayer (Mary) didn't even twitch. She was Never Free's mother. I doubted she would live long enough to have another cub. As tempting as yanking Never Free's tail (literally) was I opted to give Sharp Wits a good scratch instead. I entered her cage far more carefully than I would have Never Free's. Sharp Wits liked me but she was still wild lion who had fed her pride for several years and possessed a wealth of experience that Never Free would never have. I watched every movement as raptly as hawk watches prey lest I become prey myself but she rumbled a greeting and I sank my hands into her dense fur. _

'_What troubles you, Fleet Feet?'_

_I shook my head and kept scratching but she flattened her ears so I hastened to explain, not from fear mind, but just because it isn't polite to displease the Queen of the Beasts. 'I'm worried one of the other prisoners in the Tower is going to end up like him.' I nodded toward the new lion who just gazed vacantly across the quad. _

_She licked her paws delicately unsheathing her razor claws and wrinkled her nose revealing canines that could pierce my skull in a heartbeat. I continued to scratch her itchy spot while she groomed. Cats like to think while grooming and it doesn't do to disturb them, especially when they're this big._

'_This would be the cub that was wailing this morning? The one whose mother was slain?'_

'_They keep him in a little room, smaller even than this where he can not see the sun, nor smell the air, nor hear the voices of others.' I looked down 'He is wroth with me and has ordered me to leave him but if I do he will be utterly alone.'_

'_No he WON'T' Waits Patiently yowled. _

'_You shouldn't be here' I protested to the heavily pregnant cat 'you know it's dangerous.' Never Free's tail was whipping as he licked his lips since cats were his preferred prey. The poor of the city could see the lions if they brought a meal for them the minimum being a medium sized dog or two grown cats. The Tower guard augmented that ration with any cat they could catch on the grounds. The lions ate as much cat was they did mutton, maybe more. Leaps High, Strikes Boldly, Waits Patiently, and Skitters had the advantage of Shadow to hide them from the guards but that wouldn't save them from the lions ears or the wolves noses. _

_Waits Patiently ignored Never Free as confidently as I did (someone had clearly been watching me) but approached Sharp Wits far more boldly than I had. The lioness lowered her head graciously so they could rub cheeks. Waits Patiently licked a paw and swept it over her ear. I briefly wondered if I should join the trend, when in Rome and all that, but I knew where my hands had been. _

'_We won't let it come to that' Waits Patiently finally said after the proper polite grooming was over. 'And he'll get over his pique eventually. We'll let you know when and keep him in rats until then.'_

_Well with that as a threat I'd be welcome again in no time. Raw rat was not one of Henry's favorite meals. _

It seemed that Henry was more determined than either the cats or Mallory suspected because his exile from Henry's cell drug on through months during which he spent a great deal of time with Milady Latimer becoming less and less Cromwell and Skeffington's creature though as the next pages proved they had left their mark.

_I glanced over the swirl of the court making careful note of who spoke to whom. Milady Latimer did not approve of my time at court since it was 'no place for a child' but one of the unexpected consequences of Cromwell's death was that the King was now directly aware of my value as a spy. Against that coin Milady Latimer's delicate sensibilities mattered not at all. I was a bit surprised to see Skeffington within the verge since he rarely left the Tower. On the assumption that he was looking for me (and with the certain knowledge that the longer he had to seek the more unpleasant the encounter would be) I moved quickly to join him but stopped when he froze. I immediately turned wondering could have caused such a reaction. Disconcertingly I could find nothing. My life could depend on correctly reading Skeffington's whims and this lapse sent a shiver of dread through me. I slipped deftly between the knot of chatting courtiers and realized what had caught his eye. A girl. A tiny, petite little thing with huge eyes far too big for the rest of her. Terror rolled off of her in waves though she was clearly trying very hard to be brave. Her clothes were very rich, fine, and well made but she didn't seem it be very comfortable in them. Didn't seem to be comfortable in her own skin for that matter. If this was typical of children at court then Milady Latimer was absolutely right, little mites like her had no business whatsoever here. I flicked an ear to the Wind and then turned just enough to confirm the news. _

_So Skeffington had come to speak to Cranmer who looked ready to piss himself at the mere thought. I glanced back at the girl. It was none of my business if Skeffington destroyed her. I was halfway across the hall when it occurred to me that it might be useful to know who she was. I checked on Skeffington (still busy) and made my way back. I made certain to position us so that we were out of his line of sight before bowing as regally to her as if she were a queen while giving her a proper kiss on the knuckles. There was a technique to it, of course, which far too few properly learned. The ladies of the court found me beyond charming, the girl looked at me like she suspected I was mad._

"_Rhys, Lord Tallyrand, at your most humble and gracious service Milady. Your captivating eyes have ensnared me and I must know thy name lest the lack slay me."_

_She stared at me for several breaths before giving me a quick but proper curtsy "Lady Jane Grey."_

_Well, well, well, the King's niece (or great niece more appropriately) and fifth in line for the throne after Edward, Mary, Elizabeth, and her mother Francis. Cromwell had been most emphatic that I memorize the entire pedigree and family history of every important courtier and the entire royal family. Mary, the King's beloved younger sister, had consented to willingly marry the gouty and aged Louis XII of France on the condition she might freely choose her second husband. While the events had taken a place long before I came to the court I would wager half my estates that the King had never thought she would have the nerve to make him stand by that promise. Particularly by marrying a man technically already married without receiving permission and during her mourning period while in France. I was almost sorry I'd missed the reaction. Of course the feathers flying at the same time around his elder sister, Margaret's love match with Angus Douglas had nearly cast Scotland into civil war, what with her being James IV's widow after the Battle of Flodden Field and all. Regardless the whole thing was over ere I came the long and the short of it being that even though primogeniture said that Margaret's children should inherit first the King had decreed that Mary's would have precedence. Most courtiers dismissed the idea that Margaret's children would ever grace the throne but I was less certain. There was something wrong with Ned and it had not escaped my notice when memorizing all those pedigrees that almost every Tudor male had died before he was old enough to sire an heir, the King and James V of Scotland (who had already lost two infant sons though he did have at least one bastard Bess's age who, by all accounts, was thriving) being the only exceptions out of, by my reckoning, well over a dozen (if one included miscarriages) others who had died ere they reached seventeen. And truth told the King was not yet old and had never been well in all the years I had been here. Conversely the girls like the petite nearly five year old in front of me generally survived (and in the case of Bratty Bess thrived). It was more than likely within a few short years the English throne would have naught but female heirs. _

"_There you are!" Sir Thomas Seymour, the middle of Prince Edward's three uncles swept me up and tossed me catching me easily in complete disregard of ALL dignity. If it had been anyone else I would have been plotting his demise but not Tom. The rascal of the court, it seemed he could do no wrong, or at least no unforgivable wrong. I knew Tom well for he came often to call on Ned, the Prince, as his uncle, hoping gain and use the boy's affection when he became king. He had also been a regular visitor to Cromwell on the pretense of visiting his other sister who was married to Cromwell's much neglected son Gregory. Tom had only taken an interest in me because he thought I could be a good source of information both on Ned's preferences and on Cromwell's plans. Even now that Cromwell's death made me far less useful Tom continued to seek me out. If I was interpreting the shifts in his enaid correctly he had become genuinely fond of me and if I was being honest I was always pleased to see him. Which certainly wouldn't stop either of us from using the other but as long as our interests were in accord Tom was highly amusing. He set me back on my feet before his eyes lit on my companion._

"_And who is this goddess?" He gave me a stern look that was belied by his dancing enaid. "Are you poaching in my territory, lad?"_

_Jane was back to being terrified. I laid a gentle hand on her shoulder "It's alright, it's just Tom the King's unofficial fool."_

"_A fool am I?" his smile was broad but there was an edge to his tone._

_I blinked wearing a face more innocent and young than I had ever been "You make me laugh. Isn't that what a good fool does?"_

"_And what in the world could be more precious than a child's laugh?" he even half meant it as he set about putting little Jane at ease. I watched carefully, Tom had a true knack with the ladies and I could learn a. I froze as I sensed unfriendly eyes. I didn't need to turn to know that they were Skeffington's. I took a casual step to the side as if I wanted to see what Tom was doing better. White hot, driving burning rage sang through my veins when I saw how Skeffington was looking at Jane._

_I stopped myself half way through the hall and stared at the dagger in my hands. I didn't even remember deciding to move. I was going to attack Skeffington, right here, in the verge of the court. I was in the verge of the court with a naked blade. I slammed it back into its sheath and shivered. Skeffington. I had been about to take on Skeffington who had beaten me nearly to death for the sake of a girl I had just met. I glanced at Skeffington. He didn't seem to have noticed so fixated was he on Jane and the white hot literally blinding rage started to scream at me again. I swallowed it hard. He'd kill me, slowly. He'd kill her slowly. Better her than…I had to force myself to stop. I didn't want him to harm her. I tucked myself into some real shadows and watched Tom work his own kind of magic on her. _

_What the hell was wrong with me? Why did it matter what Skeffington did to some girl. I clung to the stones hard enough to split my nails and draw blood to keep from attacking Skeffington. I made a mental note to remember to file them so that I didn't snag my hose. I couldn't even think about someone hurting Jane without wanting to savage something. Without going half-mad. She was mine, Mine, **MINE**. And NO ONE harmed what was mine. Skeffington would hurt her therefore Skeffington must die no matter the cost. But how? When?_

_The Howards must fall first. To kill Skeffington while Katherine Howard was Queen would be signing my own death warrant since her uncle the Duke was still rabid for my blood. Milady Latimer would try to but the Duke would sweep her aside and the thought of her placing herself at risk from me was just as unthinkable as Jane being hurt. Neither Tom nor the King would lift one finger for me unless it was in their own best interests. Cranmer was a good man but he didn't have what it took to go up against the Duke alone and I wouldn't abandon Henry even if he was still refusing to speak to me._

_I had known for months how to destroy Katherine Howard but all that time with Milady Latimer had made me soft. The current Queen was a silly little fool but that was no reason to kill her. I'd let Milady Latimer's concept of 'kindness' have too much influence. It was time to remember what I had learned from Cromwell. I'd seen to it that he'd been privately accused of killing Henry Fitzroy, the King's bastard son and for using magic to bewitch the King into loving Anne Boleyn. I had thought the charges groundless. I had only intended to frighten the King into making a hasty judgment but I could see in Cromwell's enaid that the charges were **not** groundless. All he had said was "When you dig up the past all you get is dirty." Well, it wasn't **my** past and it was the Howards that would be besmirched._

_Speaking of Henry Fitzroy when I left England he was still alive….or undead I suppose. Apparently Cromwell enlisted a blood sucking creature of the night to Embrace him and make him Kindred of Clan Ventrue. The royal library here in Avalon makes several interesting links between your Dark Lady and the Kindred that I look forward to finding out more about when I finally get out of this damn box. But I digress, and my time is brief for I can feel their approach. I set my plan in motion the very next day and I even thought of a way for Katherine Howard to keep her silly little head but she was too STUPID to take advantage of it. You see, Katherine Howard was in point of fact already married and had been long before she came to court. She couldn't be accused of cuckolding the King if she was already married but, no, the stupid tart had to insist that Dereham had forced her so he ended up hanged, drawn, and quartered and she lost her head. Idiot. It isn't my fault she was too bloody stupid to live Will. Even if I hadn't gone to Cranmer and revealed what she was up to with Culpeper someone else would have eventually. Shame about Dereham though, he didn't deserve that. He married a girl he though was going to be a nobody, went off adventuring so that they would have a little money to live on and came back to find his erstwhile wife Queen who stupidly thought accusing him of rape would save her own neck. Fool, brainless fool. Bah, I have neither space nor time for the twit if they take my memory of her good riddance. And so my next task now that the Duke and the Bishop had far less power was the removal of Skeffington ere he could harm Jane…_

_I had to swallow hard. I could do this. If I failed he would kill me and there would be no one to protect Jane and Henry therefore I could not fail. I couldn't leave them defenseless. I led the way since Skeffington had stopped letting me walk behind him hoping that they had listened and obeyed me. They might kill both of us, or the guards. I had explained, at great length, why that wouldn't be wise but they didn't think like I did. Who knew what they would do. _

_I stepped through the door leading us both into the trap. I expected the attack to come with every step but Skeffington walked behind me unscathed. I had considered that they might betray me by attacking us both but never that they simply might not attack at all. So be it, I would have to do it myself. Man to man except he was so much bigger than me. That hadn't stopped me from killing anyone else, of course, but none of them had nearly killed me more than once either. I clenched my fist around my dagger hilt so hard that the pommel drew blood before wheeling blade drawn back against the door that would take us safely out of the trap._

_Skeffington laughed and then sneered "What's in your head, maggot? Getting too big for your britches?" His face twisted as he closed on me. I looked frantically at the four of them silently watching behind us blocking our escape._

_Sharp Wits flicked her ears forward 'The pride is with you, cub, but first blood is yours.'_

_Lovely, bloody lovely. And somehow I doubted from the look in his eyes that Never Free was on my side. Of course Never Free wasn't pride he was just a lion. Being a lion didn't necessarily make one pride and a fierce delight bloomed in my breast. No cat would have me but the Queen of Beasts had called me kin. I dodged Skeffington's first strike living up to my name of Fleet Feet. I whirled past his whistling blade and tucked in close opening a thin line of red along the bottom of his arm but Skeffington was one of my teachers and he knew my moves. While I'd been focusing on the hand with the sword he slammed a skull cracking blow into my temple with the other._

_Through the spinning stars I dimly heard "Sloppy just got you killed, maggot." But his grin faded as a great roar so loud they must have heard it in Gibraltar split the night and a golden paw sent his sword spinning away. Sharp Wits batted him gently across the face with a velvet paw like a man challenging another to a duel while VIII (since he still hadn't told anyone his proper name) roared again more alert than I'd ever seen him. As I tried to get my feet back under me Never Free charged but Sharp Wits kicked him aside with one hind leg giving me time to recover some of my own addled wits. Skeffington made a desperate dive for his sword but Antelope Slayer got there first and covered it with one paw while raising the other to strike._

_I gave my head a shake to clear the final cobwebs and then rolled under Never Free's belly as he tried to leap on me. Normally I would have enjoyed testing my speed against his claws but not with Skeffington and three other lions added to the mix. I quickly climbed the rope I'd left hanging when I'd let the lions out of their cages just before reporting to Skeffington. Never Free glared his impotent hate up at me but I ignored him. Apparently the lionesses had decided to play a bit of cat and mouse with Skeffington. I found a semi-comfortable position on the battlement fully intending to enjoy the lions' 'hunt'._

I flipped the page and looked up into Elizabeth's glare "Give me the journal. Now. I'll decide for myself what I can and can not see."

I tightened my grip with no intention of backing down. It was my duty as a husband to protect Elizabeth and sometimes that extended to protecting her from herself.

"I said give me the journal" she growled at me eyes narrowing.

When I didn't immediately relinquish it she tried to snatch it out of my hands. For a pampered daughter of the aristocracy Elizabeth was surprisingly strong but she didn't have a prayer against my work hardened grip.

Tears welled in her eyes and she breathed a pleading "Will". I nearly let her have it as my resolve wavered but the last thing I wanted was for Mallory to catch HER with his journal and the thought of him hurting her made me tighten my grip again.

In a heartbeat the soft pleading was replaced with cold rage "Clearly I made a mistake. I thought you were the son of a pirate but apparently you're just the son of a groom." She let go abruptly "I would have been better off marrying Norrington at least he has the blood lines to go with his pretensions. I should have married a real pirate" and with that she leaned over and kissed Jack. Who just let her. Bastard son of a bitch. I was going to kill him. My hand dropped to the hilt of my sword as he broke the lip lock.

"Now Lizzy as flattered as I am ye simply waited too long and Anna-Maria would kill us both." She glanced down at her empty hands. It was then I realized my own were empty.

"JACK!" she snapped as he flipped the journal open.

"Pirate, luv" he reminded her with a flash of a golden grin.

"**I** stole that, square and fair." She had said she would have been better off marrying Norrington. My head knew it was all about her getting her own way but the words were like a sword thrust to the chest because a part of me had always believed it.

"Take what ye can, give nothing back" Jack retorted merrily as Elizabeth fumed. Would Jack take her from me?

"Are you going to skip all the good parts too?"

Warm fingers wrapped themselves around my shoulder as Commodore Norrington whispered "She didn't mean it. She's just too accustomed to getting her own way."

"If by the 'good parts' ye mean watching Skeffington being devoured while still consciously aware then yes I'll be omitting a bit o the gore. The point, lass, is te understand what brought me brother to his disheartened state not te wallow in the blood as it were."

Elizabeth glowered. It was hard to deny that she was a spoiled brat but I loved Elizabeth with all of her flaws. There was no one else for me.

"But as a proper pirates let's put it to a vote. All in favor of bloody mayhem say aye."

Elizabeth's voice rang out alone.

"And there ye have it, lass. Isn't democracy a beautiful thing" Jack quipped before starting to read.

_I gave door of Henry's cell one final look of disgust. At least I no longer needed to sneak down here since there was no one left in the Tower who could see through my illusions. Skeffington and Cromwell were both dead and I was no closer to winning Henry's freedom than I had been before. I stalked back to the stable and ordered Blake to saddle our horses._

I glanced around the cabin for my father before remembering that he'd gone back up on deck unable to face the memory of the carchar. A Matthew Blake that worked with horses, a Matthew Blake with the same chin and jaw as my father and I, I hadn't noticed earlier but I was willing to bet the shop that we were descended from this man. I had wondered if I would get the same imagery with Jack reading as I had when I had held the journal myself and this seemed to indicate to my relief that I would. I stole a glance at Elizabeth who had stopped pouting and was regarding Jack through narrowed eyes.

_I had to get Blake out to my estates where he could start working with my blood stock as soon as possible. I would miss him in my stables in town for unless I wanted to start grooming my own horses I would not find his equal but he would serve me better training the young horses and working with the studs and brood mares than tacking up my mounts at court. Any idiot could do that. I scanned the crowds as we rode through the London streets. Most nobles used the river to travel instead of braving the rabble in the streets unless they were riding in force but despite the stench I had found these jaunts useful. Christian persecution had scattered the Old Blood so that few knew what they could do and even less knew that there were others outside of their immediate family. I had found Blake this way, just by 'looking' for the Blood. A horse whisperer on the docks, what a bloody waste. Maybe today would be the day that I found someone who could break the spell on the door. Instead of the desperately sought for Old Blood spell caster I was nearly broadsided by some idiot on a leopard spotted horse._

"_Out of the way, varlet. I am Thomas Norrington heir of Sir Edward Norrington on my way to court." The ill-mannered stallion, who looked like the unfortunate survivor of tragic printing press incident, tried to eat my boot. _

_I gave the upstart my most condescending you-aren't-even-worthy-for-my-gaze-to-fall-upon look "I am Rhys ap Griffith, **Lord** Tallyrand, the King's Own Ward."_

_He swallowed as he finally realized which one of us was better dressed "Your pardon."_

_Now I granted him a casually magnanimous "Granted. Your mount appears unaccustomed to the city. I could loan you one of mine while my groom"_

It was true I thought as Mallory's attention turned to Blake, I was just a blacksmith, son of a pirate, son of generations of grooms. How could I have ever thought I was worthy of a lady like Elizabeth?

"_You would like that, wouldn't you?" Thomas Norrington snapped back "You shan't find it that easy to steal my horse, your Lordship!"_

_I gave the black and white speckled beast he was riding another glance. While the stallion was certainly no knock-kneed nag the gelding Blake was riding was a better horse and my own liver chestnut mount was three times the horse. The spotted horse tossed his sparse mane and pranced a little for my palfrey, Athena, who flicked her ears back and cocked a hind leg in warning. The reason I used the exquisite Athena as a riding animal instead of a brood mare was the fact that she savaged any stallion put to her. If the spotted horse continued his amorous intentions he was likely to end up permanently lame. _

"_Why would I wish to?" I sneered back "I have no aspirations to become court jester. The King has fools enough in his service, perhaps you should take your ill-mannered horse back to the country where he belongs."_

_In spite of the fact that Norrington was well aware which of us held the higher rank he muscled his spotted stead ahead of mine. Athena, always touchy about her status, tossed her head and all but begged me to let her go after them. I seriously considered teaching them both a fatal lesson about respecting their superiors but Milady Latimer had been endeavoring to teach me to turn the other cheek. I was secretly of the opinion that that only got you slapped harder but I did want to please her. Not that she would ever know that I had let the fool go. I smiled when he made a wrong turn. He would be lucky indeed to survive riding through that particular neighborhood. I considered going after him but Milady Latimer didn't have THAT much influence. _

_I handed Athena's reins over to Blake when we finally arrived. As I made my way from the stables into the swirl of the court I heard something that made my blood run cold. _

"_What does Pole think he's doing?" the King growled. I wasn't aware of Cardinal Pole stirring up any trouble of late and I kept an obsessively close watch on him given that Henry's life hung in the balance. "Since the boy means nothing to him._

_A distraction, I needed a distraction right **NOW**. I hoped Wind had understood what I wanted as I ran like I had never run before through the palace. _

_Wind's best approximation of Katherine Howard's voice rang crystal clear outside the King's Privy Chamber wailing for mercy. When I had arranged for her crimes to come to light the King had absented himself from the palace. He had never heard her pleas for mercy nor seen her hysterical tears. I had and as I slipped and went down hard on the recently washed floors outside the King's apartments I wove a Shadow to go with Wind's cries. As the King looked on she slipped away from her guards, lovely young face twisted in terror screaming for him only to be drug weeping away still begging for mercy. Wide eyed and trembling with his heart pounding even faster than my own after my long run he watched in silence before fleeing back into his rooms. _

_I'd bought a little time but once he got over his fear he would order Henry's death. I picked myself up off the floor healing the skinned knee and elbow without even really thinking about it as I turned and headed for the water gate. The river was by far the quickest way back to the Tower but I had no idea what I was going to do once I arrived. If the King ordered Henry executed they would have to open the door. I could make my move then. If he ordered him starved to death then, then I was right back where I was. _

_I jumped back out of the way narrowly avoiding the striped hooves of a too familiar spotted horse. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy if I hadn't fed Skeffington to the lions (my lips curled remembering his screams when they had started to hunt in earnest) he would have bound me in the path of a galloping horse just to ensure that I remembered to pay better heed in the future, provided I survived the lesson of course. I had noted though that the horse was riderless. So the intrepid Thomas Norrington had already come to grief. The stupid git deserved whatever he got. Milady Latimer would undoubtedly want me to play the proper good Samaritan and go help him out of whatever trouble he was in. I sniffed, as if, I had more pressing issues to see to. And then I paused – what if he HAD gotten himself killed? He was roughly the same age and height as Henry and if Henry wasn't so wasted from his long captivity they would probably be similar in build. They had the same hair color and similar eye colors too. I hadn't noticed any servants accompanying the 'heir of Sir Edward Norrington' so there might not be anyone at court who knew him well. Could I have possibly designed a better set of circumstances for Henry to become a Changeling? _

_My stomach knotted. It was one thing to promise it his grandmother that I could do it when I was desperate for her help but the truth was, I had NO idea if I really could do such a thing. First things first, I needed to find Norrington's body, if he was even dead. It wasn't even all that probable that he was dead. My hand drifted down to my dagger. That was easy enough to remedy. Except I had sworn that I would kill no one else to save Henry. So I lied, it wasn't as if I didn't do that on a daily (hourly?) basis anyway. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the spotted horse's hoof prints so I hoped that I found Norrington before the trail became too obscured with those of other horses. I wondered if there was some magical way to pick out the trail should I lose it?_

_I glanced back but the river was long out of sight. Something had spooked the spotted horse good and proper, we had to be a mile from the river and he had flat out galloped the whole way. While the trail was still clear I lit a tiny flame to try and gage the King's mood. Still cowering so I had a little time yet. I extinguished the little flame and spotted the ghost. Well, I wouldn't have to kill him then. Human skull versus English oak, very messy, but Thomas Norrington had never (and would never) know what hit him. I sighed and glanced down. Of course the body just HAD to come to rest on the wrong side of the wall from the river. I clambered down easily and considered just how I was to get a young man several years my elder and over a foot taller back up the wall. I was strong, far stronger than Bratty Bess or even Henry almost as strong as a full grown human but… Henry needed me, failure wasn't an option. _

_I wiped the sweat trickling down my forehead away. Failure might not be an option but I couldn't get the body over the wall. I flicked an ear back toward the palace. The King was (mostly) over the shock so I had to come up with another clever idea to get the body to the Tower. Drag him around the wall and then find another boat? I sent Wind ahead to see if that was a viable idea. Drag him to the stables and ride to the Tower? Except there was still the wall to deal with. Run back to the stables, get Athena, and then ride to the Tower? Better but still the long way round. I turned to set off for the stables when my ears pricked. Hounds in the distance, and not just any hounds, there was no mistaking the sound of the dogs that had brought me to bay in There. Was the blond elf who had brought me here returning? And if so why? And why now? And most importantly – what was I going to do about it? My first inclination was to fly for the river. No dog from here would be able to track me on the river, but would those strange red eared, red eyed freaks be able to? Would I be leading them to Henry if I fled now before them? And would the blond elf think I had killed Thomas Norrington if he found me here with the body? And would he care? Was it even the blond elf or was it some other? Too many questions and no answers. The hounds were approaching fast. I yanked off my doublet and laid it on Thomas Norrington, wrapped his body in a Shadow of my true form, and scrambled up the wall tucking myself into the natural shadows before reinforcing them with one of my own. No sooner was I secure in my perch than the Cwn Annwn, as legend named, them spilled out of the little wood and across the field. Now that they were nearly upon me their baying dropped to the faintest of whispers and it was then that I beheld their master with his great antlered head rising up out of the fog rolling in from the Thames. For a split second I wanted to follow the advice of the stories and hide my head until the Hunt had passed. What a stupid idea! As if the monster will pass you over because you don't see it. Pah! I slipped a throwing knife into each hand, waiting. _

_The great antlered figure stopped suddenly when he beheld the crumpled figure at the base of the wall and gave a cry of what sounded like denial. He swept off the antlered helm revealing the blond elf from before and rushed forward to kneel beside the body I had wrapped in my own likeness. Interesting, very interesting. So, HE couldn't see through my Shadows, good, very, very good. He reached out a shaking? hand "Neb, neb, neb mi tywysogion."_

_So should I reveal myself or slip quietly away into the night? He seemed genuinely upset about the prospect of my death but that did not necessarily make him a friend. What if he was coming to take me back? Where would that leave Henry? But he COULD be useful too. I nibbled my lip, torn, as the hounds milled in confusion. One lifted his head, chest and nose both working as he turned toward my niche. A second and a third followed. Now or never. Wind whispered into the ear I had cocked toward the palace proper that the King had finally stopped cowering. It was now a race against time to save Henry. I threw the first knife. Perfect, right between his splayed fingers and into the earth, I dropped the Shadows and glared down at him making certain he could clearly see the second knife._

"_Mi tywysogion" elation and relief, very interesting. He bowed low, forehead to the ground. What the hell?_

"_Hale and well met" his accent was a little odd but the English was otherwise prefect "my prince". _

_My **PRINCE**! I only half heard the rest as I clung to the wall mind reeling. Prince, not maggot, not boy, not even his 'just barely' Lordship with his paltry little estates, but prince, an equal to Bratty Bess and that little prig Ned. Our tutors had gone on and on about how 'noble and holy' Ned was. How he had been chosen by God and touched with a 'divine grace and right'. Well obviously so had **I** and Bess's precious 'Eyes' could just stuff his notions. I gave myself a mental shake. Yes, it was an overwhelming piece of information but I could mull it later. Right now a messenger was leaving with orders that Henry was to be quickly and quietly dispatched and the body thrown into the Thames. If I didn't beat them there then Henry was dead._

"_Good" I snapped cutting the blond elf off. Had he said his name was Mannwan ap Herne of House Glanio somewhere in all that? I'd find out later. "I need some help moving the body."_

_He blinked at me._

_In my haughtiest imitation of Ned speaking to the servants "Did you not introduce yourself as the Master of the King of Avalon's guard and did you not name me a Prince of Avalon?" Prince, I was the Prince of Avalon. A quick nod and a measuring glance. "As prince I assume that I outrank the Master of the King's Guard in all matters save the King's personal safety?"_

"_You would indeed an I had not been sent here to train you, mi tywysogion." Just what I needed yet another tutor. Except that I did need a teacher in all things elven, elvish, whatever, not critical right now. Right now we needed to save Henry. So….ummm… "Do elves" by the twisting of his normally hansom visage I'd made a grievous faux pas, note to self, elves apparently did not call themselves elves, but I forged on since we had very little time "believe in keeping their word?"_

"_An **Ellyllon**'s word is his bond" he retorted with a stiff dignity that reminded me a bit of poor Lord Montague, Henry's father._

"_I have given mine and would be most grateful for any assistance you might provide in keeping it." Something about him made me add "My honor is at stake." What a ridiculous notion! A friend's life was at stake and I didn't give a rat's ass about my word or my honor, but it seemed that my instincts were right because he shouldered the body as if it were weightless._

"_Where are we going?"_

"_To the river and then to the Tower."_

_The blond Ellyllon (Mannwan?) swallowed, with a resigned sigh he gave the hounds a command and then walked through the wall. _

_I whirled on the ledge and dropped lightly down next to him "Come on. We don't have much time." I tried to set a brisk pace but obviously my speed was not shared by my companion. So all Ellyllon weren't as fast as I was? Or was it something I would grow out of? I burned to ask questions but this wasn't the opportune moment for that. He had been sent to teach me, it could wait. Prince, I was a Prince of Avalon. Why was I here instead of in my own kingdom? Were all Ellyllon Princes raised as Changelings? I bit down hard on those questions and instead asked "Could you possibly move a bit faster? We have very little time."_

_I could see him swallowing his own questions as he picked up his pace. We beat the King's men to the Thames but only just. I settled Thomas Norrington's body in the bow of my little skiff confident we would beat them to the Tower. No one made better time on the Thames than I did. As I poled us off the bank my living companion made a green sound. The current swirled around us and I reached out to the water churning it to increase our speed. The other Ellyllon was watching me like a hawk. Perhaps like the Old Blood Ellyllon gifts varied though usually the Old Blood had only a single gift which tended (though not always) to pass down through the generations. I had several with more cropping up all the time. Enough speculation, I forced my concentration back to the matter at hand, I could ask if I had so many gifts because I was a Prince of Avalon. Later. A Prince of Avalon. Henry now, questions later. The bridge loomed up out of the midnight fog. I gauged the distance between the water and the bridge. My skiff would make it easily the larger boat behind us was questionable. I closed my eyes and reached deep, deep out of the mouth of the river and into the Narrow Sea beyond pulling at the tide. I didn't know if I could speed it up or not but if I could then the men behind us would be forced to dock their boat and find mounts to the Tower. Since there was a stable just for that purpose it wouldn't buy much time but even a few minutes could make all the difference. _

"_Mi tywysogion" the warning and trace of panic in Mannwan?'s voice was enough to break my concentration. _

_Oops seemed to be an understatement. I shot the boat through the narrow gap left as a great swell of water surged up the Thames and the water washed completely above the bridge behind us. Might have overdone that a bit. I wasn't certain but it seemed like something had answered me. Interesting, for later. Later needed to hurry up and get here! The water was up over the Water Gate and flowing into the courtyard beyond. In my haste to thwart the King's messenger I might very well drown Henry. _

"_Bring the body." I ordered over my shoulder as I hit the stone by the gate that I could speak to at a flat out run before remembering that I needed to wait for my less swift companion. _

"_So you can dywedyd a carreg?" It had a distinctly Welsh ring to it and I knew enough to guess I had been asked if I could communicate with stones._

"_I can hear most but speak to only a very few. We can talk later. Follow me" I snapped at him. Since I couldn't run ahead I set about mitigating some of the flooding I'd caused and sent Wind both behind to find out what had become of the King's messenger and ahead to make certain Henry's cell wasn't under water already. _

_I breathed a sigh of relief when Wind brought me back the sound of Strikes Boldly's purr. That cat could rattle your teeth out he purred so hard. A breath later the other breeze returned with word (and with a great many other inconsequential tidings) that the King's messenger had been thrown north of Hampstead Court. Now we had plenty of time but I couldn't wait to get Henry out of this place. I was hoping that Mannwan would know how to break the spell on the door but baring that he seemed to have no trouble speaking to stone and there were several that I had never been able to speak to that were more than big enough for Henry to fit through._

"_Can you disguise yourself in Shadow or do I need to do it for you?" I asked the blond. There was a flicker of annoyance in his opalescent enaid before he vanished. If I concentrated I could still see him but no one else could. Good enough. _

_I led the way to Henry's cell and then dropped my own Shadow "Can you break it?"_

_His ears flicked forward (and that looked **SO** odd) in surprise "You couldn't?"_

_I hated him for that question "Your pardon. I have had precious little instruction in the use of my native talents. I thought you had been sent here to rectify that. You may begin with the spell on the door" I said in my frostiest tones._

_He set Thomas Norrington's body on the flagstone floor and reached out "It's only a cleoion." And between one blink and the next it was gone. So simple, years of Henry's life wasted on something that could have been dispelled in an instant if I had only known what I was doing. We would be spending a great deal of time together this Mannwan and I for clearly I had much to learn. I pulled my lock picks out and made quick work of the lock._

"_It would be best if he didn't see you" I said before forming a ball of fire in my bare hand. Maybe that was child's play for Ellyllon but I wanted to show him I wasn't completely incompetent. I would have loved to slam the cell door open but I had no desire to bring the soldiers stationed in the Tower down on our heads so I discretely pushed it open slowly while having Wind muffle the sound. _

_Henry threw up his hands. How stupid of me! Since he had commanded me to stay away he had been in near absolute darkness. I let the flame dwindle to little more than a spark._

"_Henry" I said softly "It's time to go."_

"_Rhys? Rhys is that really you?" _

"_It's me" I grabbed Thomas Norrington by his blood spattered collar and drug him into the cell._

"_What have you done?"_

"_I didn't kill him. I even warned him that that stupid speckled horse of his was trouble. His horse spooked and he hit a tree. I didn't spook the horse either." I drew a deep breath "Are you ready to become Thomas Norrington?" One advantage to spending over an hour trying to heave Norrington's uncooperative carcass over the wall was I had had a great deal of time to pump his ghost and his blood for details, the only question was could I transfer that to Henry?_

_Henry swallowed "Is this really necessary?"_

"_Your grandmother thought it was. If you do this then you give up all claim on the throne, forever but if you want to make a play for the throne"_

"_NO!" it was a wail and for a second I worried about his sanity "No" softer "Let me be the meanest of peasants first."_

_I sniffed "I wouldn't do that to you. Norrington here is of perfectly ordinary and respectable country gentleman stock. You'll have a couple of nice little estates, nothing on par with what you lost, but you shan't starve as long as you're careful."_

_He swallowed again he reeked of fear but there was trust in his eyes as well, "What do you need me to do?"_

_I let the body slump at my feet and waved him over to me. The initial Shadow was fairly easy but it would need to grow, change, and gradually fade. I altered the one of young Lord Tallyrand all the time but it was an active thing. This would need to be separate from me in a preordained fashion. The blond elf had come into the cell. I could see the vague outline of him through his own less potent Shadow. Was that intentional or was I better than he? Or could he see the same bit of the truth through mine? Given his reaction to my ruse earlier I didn't think so. He flicked his ears in surprise when I sent a challenging glare in his direction before setting to work in earnest._

_It took the better part of an hour before I was satisfied. And that was the easy part. Now for the real test of my wit and skills, could I make Henry a true Changeling? And could I keep the bits of Thomas I was scavenging from overwhelming us?_

_I forced fear aside and set my full concentration to the matter at hand. First I opened myself to Henry as if I was going to take his place. The hand grasping mine tightened to the point that my frail bones nearly gave way but he didn't pull back and then I reached down for Thomas Norrington's cold, stiffening hand. Too many, too much. Henry's fear threatened to drown us both in the tempest. Thomas's ambitions tangled with my own while Henry's native humility and grace attempted to destroy both. I was losing the definition of where each of us started and the other ended. A shadow stepped forward. He was going to stop me. The bloody hell he was. I was the **Prince** of Avalon and he was just the Captain of the King's Guard. In that instant of defining myself all of it snapped into place. This was me, that was Henry and this was the gloss of that git Norrington that Henry needed to wear for colour. I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked at Henry. Would he still be Henry or would he now be just a shade of Thomas Norrington._

"_Henry?"_

_He licked his lips "Rhys?" Definitely Henry. I released a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. "Just remember that you have to answer to Tom from now on."_

_He blinked, paused, then "I will." He pushed past me to walk out of the cell. He just stared down the corridor for several minutes and then called the cats. Strikes Boldly and Waits Patiently when to him but the other two stayed inside. He glanced at me clearly wanting the cats but not wanting to walk back into the cell. _

"_This is their territory now" I explained "Cinders and Smoke want to stay here." Strikes Boldly meowed and reached up before leaping onto his shoulder._

"_Then let's **go**"_

"_Lea…v..ing…..me?" the stone whispered a plea behind us._

"_A moment, I have to let the stone know I'll be back for it. I promised to get it out of here too."_

_He nodded "Of course, when you do send it with all speed to my estate" and took several steps up the corridor. With him out of sight Mannwan dropped his Shadow. I couldn't tell if he was pleased, surprised, enraged, insulted, or all of the above. _

"_Can you deal with the stone?" I whispered to him._

"_I am responsible for your safety, my Prince, and will accompany you."_

"_Then can you assure it that we will return and rejoin us in the stable?"_

_He nodded and I walked out "Do you want to close it or should I?" Strikes Boldly rubbed his cheek against Henry, against Tom's face._

"_You do it." I swung the door shut and grinned, I couldn't help it. I felt like I could fly. "Race you to the stable?"_

_But Henry shook his head. I felt a cold chill dance along my spine as my 'feet' not only regained the floor but sank through it (not literally). Henry's enaid was flat. No joy, no elation, not even relief. He might as well still be in the cell for all the reaction he showed. He had been afraid when I made him into a proper Changeling so he still had emotions. Had I done something to him? Was this my fault? I scooped up Waits Patiently before she could trip me._

'_It's about time you got him out of there' she sniffed at me with the condescending tone only cats can achieve. _

'_How long has he been like this?'_

_Normally she would have groomed before answering but since that was impossible in my arms she butted her head against my hand demanding that I scratch her ears as we walked **far** too slowly for my taste toward the stables. Did Henry WANT us to get caught? This had to be the slowest escape in all recorded history. Maybe he was still in shock, maybe the reality that he was really out of the cell hadn't set in, maybe he was just having trouble settling in Thomas Norrinton's memories. Or maybe his spirit had died in there even though his flesh had lived. It couldn't be. I wouldn't let it be. I hadn't come this far to lose now. Maybe Mannwan would have some ideas. Being a Prince of Avalon had to be good for something. _

'_For a long time, Fleet Feet, and you've known it even if you've refused to let yourself see it.' Eyes as glowing as my own glared at me 'Thinking like a silly two-leg. I expected better of you.'_

_I blinked at her 'Do you think I should have let them execute him?' She didn't answer. She never answered but none of the other cats had hunted as hard for him, not even Strikes Boldly. _

_I spent the rest of the lengthy walk to the stables debating which of the four horses I currently had at the Tower would be best for Henry's first ride in nearly four years. I actually kept nine horses in London. Poor Blake spent half his time brining them back from all the places I left them when I chose to use the Thames for the second half of a trip. Not that Blake ever minded a chance to go riding even in the worst of weather. Athena might be the best of them but I had no nags. I owned nothing suitable for a beginner either. Not that Henry was one, just a bit out of practice as it were, but I liked my horses spirited (when Blake didn't know I was listening he complained about all the 'piss and wind'). Not that they weren't well-trained and (mostly) obedient but… Hmmmm., I toyed with the idea of putting him on Kronos just to see if the feisty coal black Barbary stud could snap him out of his melancholy. I finally settled on Kronos for me and Prometheus for Henry which would leave Mannwan his choice of Ares or Apollo. _

_Prometheus took one look at Henry and promptly nuzzled him. Henry may have had the world's worst luck because of his blood but he certainly didn't lack for loyal beasts. Blake had talked me into bidding on Prometheus because of his 'kind eye'. But that wasn't why I'd bought the palomino who so completely didn't fit in my stable and clashed terribly with my wardrobe. Blake had a touch of some sort prophetic gift (but only about horses. If the man had been less honest he could have made a fortune fixing races.) and I could feel it just standing next to him. I was supposed to buy the big, gentle gelding and give him to someone else. Henry was that someone. Nice to know the money had been well spent. _

_Finally a flicker when we mounted up. Not much, not nearly what I'd hoped for but better than nothing. I had been planning on riding back to the court since that had been Thomas' original destination but I decided instead to head for the Latimers. It was closer and if there was anyone who could be a balm to Henry's wounded soul it was Milady Latimer. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mannwan tacking up the blood bay Ares. Kronos pranced under me, eager to run as always. You had to be careful of that since he would gladly run until his heart burst if you gave him his head. _

_The Tower guard was long used to my comings and goings at all hours. I cast Mannwan as Blake and Prometheus as a spare horse with an empty saddle. Blake would cover if questioned. He was far to terrified of being sent back to the docks away from his beloved horses to ever betray me. _

_The fog was thick tonight so I sent Wind to clear it from our path as we clattered through the silent streets to the Latimer's town house. I sent Wind ahead to disturb Milady Latimer's slumber as well so that she would be awake ere we arrived. _

_I banged at the door having Wind amplify the sound while I called for Milady Latimer. She joined us just as the bleary eyed gate man, also used to young Lord Tallyrand's eccentric schedule, was letting us into the small courtyard._

"_Rhys, are you well? I just had the most distressing dream about you."_

"_I'm fine" I assured her as I passed Kronos' reigns to Mannwan "But I found the young gentleman injured. He appears to have struck his head and I was loath to leave him in the street unattended. Blake, would you please see to the horses?"_

_I had the distinct impression that my new tutor was less than best pleased to have been demoted to groom but he did take the horses without comment, for now. I had been rather high handed tonight. If I had tried this on any of my other tutors I would have been soundly thrashed and Skeffington would have cheerfully killed me for far less. He had watched me like a hawk, largely without comment, but I knew in my bones a storm was coming. As long as if fell after Henry was safely tucked up under Milady Latimer's wing I didn't much care. I'd been doing a bit of observing myself and I was reasonably certain that the blond elf was more like the Poles than Skeffington. I was in for a long lecture not a mauling. _

_I had woven a cut, a lump, and a generous quantity of blood onto the Shadow. The greyhound behind Milady Latimer's nose was working overtime as she smelled the cats but couldn't spot them. If I absolutely HAD to deal with dogs I preferred greyhounds since they used their eyes more than their noses. Since she couldn't see the cats she opted not to believe her nose. The cats, having never encountered greyhounds, were clinging to our shoulders hard enough to draw blood._

_I hadn't actually discussed using a head injury to cover any lapses in the Shadow with Henry but even though he was nearly emotionally flat there was nothing wrong with his wits._

"_Milady" he tried to bow and swayed dangerously. I reached out to steady him, uncertain how much was show. _

"_You poor dear" Milady Latimer purred at him, turning the full grace of her presence on him. I squashed a lance of jealousy. This was what I had brought him here for, Henry was what was important now, not keeping Milady Latimer to myself. He brightened a little, not nearly as much as I had hoped, but it was proof there was still a living heart under four years of deprivation. _

"_Could we put him in the green room?" The chamber next to my own didn't see many guests and was fairly spartan but it had an east facing window. It couldn't hurt to let Henry watch the new dawn. "I'll start drawing some washing water" I offered as Milady Latimer kept up a gentle patter of questions which Henry fumbled to answer. He shot me a slightly panicked look. Milady immediately picked up on the distress and switched to a long discussion of her greyhounds' bloodlines. _

_I was just finishing warming the water in the cedar tub when they arrived. I started to bounce up and over to their side when the world tilted on me. No very nice of it, not very nice at all. _

"_Rhys!" How had Milady Latimer gotten over here so fast? And why was she taller than normally? Oh, because I was on my knees. Well, that would explain it. I scrambled to my feet and this time the world stayed where it belonged. _

"_I'm fine, just a little tired."_

_She glanced at the tub and then back at me "You filled that all by yourself that fast?" She sighed "When will you learn, my young Lord, not to push yourself too hard?" I shrugged and she turned her attention back to Henry. "I'll summon one of my husband's servants to assist you."_

"_Please don't wake anyone on my account."_

_She glanced over at me "Would your groom, Mr. Blake, be willing to help then?"_

"_I'll go and fetch him. The green room will need some airing." She clearly didn't want to leave either of us alone. _

"_It looks far worse than it is" Henry offered "And Lord Tallyrand will only be gone a few moments."_

_As soon as she was gone Henry all but dove into the tub, while I'd occasionally brought a little extra water for washing Henry hadn't had a bath in years (and smelled like it. Milady Latimer was too polite to point out the pong but the sooner it was gone the better). The cats decided that the far end of the room was the only place safe from the possibility of getting wet and moved there with an indecent haste. _

"_Who is he really?"_

"_A tutor sent from Avalon."_

_He glanced up from his scrubbing "And what does that mean?"_

_I shrugged "I don't know. I barely let him introduce himself before dragging him to the Tower." To save your ungrateful ass I added mentally. I didn't expect fawning, eternal gratitude (though it might not be misplaced), or even really a thank you, but I had expected something and I was beginning to get angry no matter how many times I told myself that Henry had just been through nearly four years of hell on earth. _

"_Don't you think you aught to find out?"_

_Dismissed like a damn servant. I pivoted and left before I said or did anything that Henry might not live to regret. I stormed to my chamber, snatched up the new clothes I had made for Henry, wrapped myself in Shadow, left them where he could find them after his bath, and stormed to the stable. _

_I ducked easily under the blow and came up with a throwing knife in one hand and my longer dagger in the other. I barely parried the next attack. He was so damn strong that the blow radiated all the way to soles of my feet and I lost the throwing knife when I had to bring my right hand up to support my left. I wanted to dance back so that I could properly take his measure but he was so much taller that falling back would be fatal. If he really meant to kill me. This could merely be a new teacher testing my skills but I preferred to err on the side of caution and try to kill the bloody bastard. So I tucked in as close as I dared. He gave ground trying to regain the advantage his height gave him but I stayed in tight forcing him off balance. He was good, better than anyone I'd ever encountered and I'd fought the best in the court. By our sixth pass my arms were screaming in agony and I was beginning to pant. I never got a chance at a seventh pass because he sent the dagger spinning cleanly out of my hands with a move I'd never seen before. The tip of his black sword rested in the hollow of my throat._

"_Where is Cromwell, mi tywysogion?" the question was very mild but the sword tip continued to hover far too close for my comfort. Had Cromwell been important to the Ellyllon? Was he being backed by more than just the Old Blood? And if so why had it taken so long for someone to come and investigate? What was Avalon like? I itched to ask questions but I didn't want to be out here too long. My worry for Henry was far stronger than my anger and I needed to go back soon._

"_Didn't you see him when we passed Tower Hill?"_

_A flash of confusion and then a hint of dismay, provided, of course, that Ellyllon enaids reacted in the same way human ones did. So similar and yet so different, and so very, very much brighter, you couldn't mistake a human enaid for an Ellyllon one._

"_You see the dead?" _

_He didn't sound pleased about that. Was there some sort of stigma attached to being able to see the dead?_

"_You don't?" I asked as innocently as I could._

"_It is an uncommon ability." _

_Well there was a reply that told me nothing but his enaid wasn't happy about it, not at all. What did I care? I'd already learned that Ned's tutors just wanted to use him. Just like Cromwell and Skeffington had used me. Why should this Mannwan be any different? Part of me wanted to hang on his every word, wanted to like him but I didn't dare. I'd made that mistake with Cromwell and I had no intention of repeating it._

"_How did he fall?"_

"_He trusted someone he shouldn't have and was betrayed and executed." I didn't mention who had done the betraying. Something told me he wouldn't approve and the part of me that desperately wanted to know more about who I was and were I came from didn't want to do anything else to upset him._

"_And Skeffington?" So he had known about Skeffington. The part of me that was screaming a warning got a little louder._

"_Eaten by lions."_

_That certainly created a welter of confusion "Lions?"_

"_The ones in the Tower" I explained "They ate him."_

_He knew, I had tipped my hand somehow, he knew I'd had something to do with Skeffington's death. I didn't think he knew about Cromwell though. He didn't seem bothered by the fact that I'd helped send Skeffington to his death. If I had to guess I'd say he was impressed. That notion pleased me far too much and I firmly reminded myself that I knew NOTHING about this man. I might not even really be a Prince of Avalon. He might be nothing more than a charlatan playing me. _

"_At your request?"_

_No sense denying it "With my assistance. He thought he could use me. He underestimated me. He paid a steep price for his error." It was my turn to glare. It was all the warning he was ever going to get. _

_The sword was sheathed "The boy knows what you are. What do you plan to do about it?"_

_He was stronger and a better fighter than I was. I couldn't stop him if he decided to kill Henry so I blurted "He would be in more dire trouble if he betrays me than I would be. He will be discrete."_

_Again that hawk's eye measuring glare. It was terribly disconcerting, I would have to learn how to do it._

"_So, what happens now?" I asked._

"_Your grandsire, the King of Avalon, sent me here to report upon your progress and take over your teaching here at the English court if I deemed Cromwell inadequate to the task." The glare became even sterner and I realized I had been weighed and found wanting. It shouldn't have mattered, it truly shouldn't. What did I care if the Master of my grandfather's Guard found me to be less than I should be? But he had defeated me in battle and he had gotten Henry free in moments. I **needed** to learn what he could teach me and I suddenly wanted his regard as well. Had he worked some magic on me that I had not noticed that I abruptly wanted his respect? Or was it simply the fact that he was the only other Ellyllon I knew? "You have great potential, mi tywysogion, but you have been allowed to run wild and you lack all discipline. Will you obey me?"_

_I nodded, for now, I thought, but did not speak it. I wouldn't be so easily gulled as I had been with Cromwell. This Mannwan needed to prove himself to **me. **And I would be an exacting task master. Let him once step out of line and he would find himself facing the lions just as Skeffington had._

"_Then to bed with you, mi tywysogion, we will begin tomorrow." I hoped I wouldn't need the lions, I truly did._

_I stood for several long minutes outside the door to the green chamber trying to decide if I ever wanted to see Henry again before finally knocking._

"_Who is it?" Henry asked softly._

"_Rhys."_

_A pause "Come"._

_Waits had clearly discovered the marvel of feather pillows and was making herself at home on one. I hissed at Strikes telling him had had better NOT spray Milady Latimer's drapes. Henry was sitting on the floor._

"_My apologies" I said stiffly._

"_Your apologies?" he glanced up at me in confusion. It was a bit bizarre, the enaid said Henry, everything else said Thomas Norrington. I had done a damn fine job on the Shadow._

"_For not letting you die since that's clearly what you wanted. Let me know if you want the Shadow removed." I whirled to leave and Henry's voice caught me at the door._

"_Rhys, don't be an ass." I opened the door but as I started to shut it behind me I heard the blood. I dashed back into the room "What did you do?"_

_He held out a bloody palm "I am happy to be free" The truth was he WANTED to be happy to be free which was rather far off the mark "And I am grateful" that was the truth. I would have preferred real happiness to real gratitude. "And since you seem to have an obsession with blood oaths I swear eternal grati."_

"_Don't, not gratitude, friendship?" I offered instead._

_That was almost a smile. I slit my own hand on the blade and healed them both together as we clasped hands "Friends" he replied._

"_So long as our Blood endures" I finished. _

"_Would you stay and watch the sunrise, please?" I settled next to him and tried not to flinch when he flung an arm across my shoulders as the sky was painted in pastels and the London fog glowed._

"_Grandmother used to say that 'each new morning is a gift, a new beginning with no mistakes in it."_

_A biting response was on the tip of my tongue but I swallowed it, this wasn't the time. Besides this morning was a new beginning for both of us. Henry as Thomas Norrington, country bumpkin, and me as a Prince of Avalon. _

_There is no such thing as a new start, Will, not really, because you can't escape from yourself. I tried as Jonathan Sperling but things like that can't last and you can't escape the scars that life deals you. Henry did learn to laugh again, eventually. I found him a gentle young woman whose estates adjoined his own and whose deep devotion soothed his wounded soul but he was from the age of fifteen an old man. He never regained his 'youth' or joie de vive._

_I am arrogant, Will, but not so arrogant to imagine that I will manage to emerge from this unscathed. The question is, can I **CHOSE** what this…trial does to me? I rather think I can. _

Rage and determination became a presence in the cabin as the Mallory in-the-cachar turned his attention to his father.

_You can NOT have my youth, father, you can not have my joy. I won't let you have them no matter what else your nasty little minions might manage to reft from me. And you can not have my memories of Henry or Milady Latimer. I have fixed them on these pages with blood whose call can NOT be silenced. No matter what you do. No matter what, oh, James I'm so damn sorry…._

_I paused in the air making certain that the windows were actually open this time since Revenge wasn't above slamming them shut on me. Satisfied that I wasn't going to end up diving through the stern window to the sound of my ship's evil chuckle( this time) I landed lightly in my cabin. I would have loved nothing better than to collapse into my bed but I needed to check on the crew. I did not like leaving men aboard the Revenge when I wasn't present to restrain his homicidal urges but unless I wanted to watch Henri die in a candle flame and listen to his groans on the Wind there had been no other choice. It had been a very long month. The sail to the Isle de Muerta had been pleasant enough but Revenge, knowing too damn well how much that, that chest of Aztec gold unnerved me, had started in the moment we had what we were taking off this time stowed. The return trip had been so damn miserable I'd actually been glad of the excuse to leave even if it meant a draining two day flight each way plus throwing myself between Henri and death. I clung to the fact that Henri was alive, now I just needed to make certain I still had a crew after my five day absence. _

_There was a light rap on the door. _

"_Come." I said dropping into the chair behind my desk as my steward, Elwyn, appeared with warm grog (vile stuff but I was chilled to the bone as well as weary enough to sleep standing. I didn't even want to spare the energy to call fire) and whatever he deemed most palatable from the stores. Elwyn was Old Blood, as were the majority of the crew, but damned if either of us could figure out what his gift was other than an annoyingly accurate ability to perfectly gauge both my mood and my desires. While it made him the perfect servant it was also unnerving. I lived wrapped in Shadow and worked bloody hard at keeping my motives and my desires private. _

"_I've let Lieutenant Norrington know that you will be joining him on the deck at the next bell." I nodded my thanks and, as always, sensing my mood Elwyn beat a hasty retreat. I made a face as I swallowed the grog and nibbled at the tasteless ship's biscuit and salt beef that we were down to this late in the voyage. I considered putting into Clew Bay. We could be there in less than a day. Give hands a break from Revenge and lay in fresh provisions. Except I was in no shape to be crossing wits with Gran nor could I afford to let her fleece me of the treasure and she WOULD try. Bloody pirate, but I couldn't stop the amused grin that spread across my features. I cupped the mug in my hand letting the warmth seep into me. Odd that Revenge had had nothing to say but I had no intentions of starting a conversation. Revenge never had anything pleasant to say. I couldn't blame him though. I was the one that had built him out of my rage and hate. I let my eyes slide closed for a few brief minutes the bell could wake me in half an hour since that was all the rest I had time for. _

_I re-emerged into the grey day feeling a bit better though sleeping for a fortnight sounded better than Jane's Christian heaven. Clew Bay beckoned but if I gave Gran an advantage like that she'd strip me of my last button. I took a quick count of the crew as I crossed the deck. All accounted for and in good health. Odd, I had been gone for nearly five days, Revenge should have taken advantage of the situation by at least starting a few brawls if not committing outright murder. The only thing Revenge liked better than tormenting his own crew was a good battle and I saw no sign that they had plundered a ship in my absence. Perhaps he hadn't roused yet? That would explain the quiet and I **had** lulled him to sleep before I left. But that should only have lasted a couple of days. _

"_Captain" Lieutenant James Norrington nodded a stiff greeting. If I hadn't taught him to ride (and endured a number of boyish pranks) and introduced him to his wife (and been subject to long evenings listening to his youthful uncertainties) I might have joined the crew in their mistaken belief that James Norrington wouldn't know a good time if it bit him on the arse and that 'honor and duty' was the sum of his life. James the husband and father and Norrington the lieutenant were very different men and I'd long since given up getting Lieutenant Norrington to even smile at a joke. No bloody sense of humor when he was on deck. None at all. "We've had a quiet sail"_

_While I half-listened to my 1st Lieutenant I made my own inventory of the ship. Against all expectations the sleep I'd set on him seemed to be holding. I'd put him to sleep for years before but never while actively sailing with a full crew. Any lives aboard him usually shook him right out of his sleep. I didn't like what I couldn't explain. Perhaps, I thought, as I glanced up at the sails the color of old blood billowing in the freshening breeze above me, I'd simply found the right method to sooth the wild beast that roared in Revenge's twisted black heart. Or maybe he was planning something. I nearly snorted (Princes of Avalon do NOT snort), Revenge was a brawler not a schemer. Now, Peregrine on the other hand, could be almost as conniving as I but Revenge didn't have the patience for planning. _

_I turned my attention back to Lieutenant Norrington just as he finished up._

"_Well done, Lieutenant. Carry on. If you need me for anything I will be in my cabin."_

_Lieutenant Norrington gave me a stiff nod. I noted that the circles under his eyes were unpleasantly deep but then they always were when we went back to Isle de Muerta (and who had given the place that depressing name? It was disagreeable enough without adding fuel to the fire). What I had ordered done to the Spanish sailors ate at him. Not for the first time I toyed with the idea of sending James back home to his wife and young sons. Henry would love to have him back on the family estates especially now that my 'namesake' Rhys had succumbed to his long fight with cancer. Henry still had his wife and the small regiment of grandchildren his four daughters had given him but that didn't mean he didn't miss his only surviving son. The only problem was I would probably have to tie up 'honor and duty' Norrington to get him home and chain him up to keep him there. And the truth was Lieutenant Norrington was, bar none, the most competent of all the men and Ellyllon who served me. I'd pack him off as soon as we made port and put Revenge in dry dock for a few months, he'd be fine, he always was. Dismissing James from my mind I lit a great gout of flame in the middle of my cabin and summoned the Wind. Cromwell had always been right about one thing, knowledge was power. I'd been spending too much time lately reacting instead of acting. Time for that to change. I flung all my senses wide using the fire to bring me visions across the length and breadth of Europe while Wind howled its tidings_

I fought not to scream, eyes shut tight, hands clamped over my ears but it didn't help I was drowning in a maelstrom of information when it suddenly stopped. I blinked, dazed and lost.

"What did ye do that for, **Commodore** Norrington, when it was just getting interesting?" Jack demanded.

Commodore Norrington looked as pummeled as I felt. Elizabeth whimpered a little beside me and I pulled her in close. Jack just blinked at us in mystified confusion.

I swallowed and forced out "It's too much."

"I must confess" he replied with an easy, relaxed grace "that the fire gazing was a bit o' a surprise but don't ye think" He glanced pointedly at the Governor who had curled into a ball "yer overdoing it just a wee bit?"

"God, **no**" Commodore Norrington snapped.

Kohl darkened eyes studied us all "Is it really as bad as all that?"

Elizabeth nodded a little against my chest.

Jack frowned and his fingers twitched. He sighed "Well, since Lizzy doesn't like the way Will reads it and I can't judge when a bit o' Wind is too much for yer delicate sensibilities I suppose ye had best read it for a bit, Commodore."

Commodore Norrington swallowed looking more uncertain than I'd ever seen him "Could you possibly take a quick look and ascertain when the Prince is finished with his information gathering."

Jack took a quick peek "Start there, mate."

The Commodore flinched back putting a little more space between himself and Jack before reopening the journal.

_I extinguished the flame with a thought and waved the Winds away. Had that been a gun shot? It was difficult to tell as immersed as I had been in all of Winds' words. Elwyn rapped at the door of my cabin._

"_Captain are you well?"_

_It had been a gun shot, then, and if it wasn't in this cabin that only left James' next door. I dashed past Elwyn faster than he could even see and wrenched James' door off its hinges since it was locked. The smell of blood, bowels, and gunpowder washed over me as I watched his ysbyrd raise the pistol to his head and fire over, and over, and over._

"_Captain?" I blinked at Elwyn._

"_Get out. Get out now." I took an unsteady step into the cabin. Most of the time I didn't mind my complete lack of amseru talents but I would gladly give up anything but Sea right now for the ability to turn back time or enough foresight to have prevented this. I gently closed the empty green eyes and as I straightened I noticed the ysbyrd's lips were moving but I didn't hear anything._

'_Would you like to?' Revenge sneered._

"_Captain!" James' voice was raw from panic or long shouting or both and "RHYS!" _

_He'd screamed for Rhys, not Draco, or Drake, or De le Mack. 'What did you do to him!' I snarled watching as the fires of my rage lit like beacons._

'_Wouldn't you like to know' he observed smugly._

"_RHYS please answer me" the ysbyrd begged as he clawed at the locked door. Except the latch wasn't bolted. I glanced back at the door that I had yanked from its hinges. Revenge had sealed the door himself. _

"_Why?"_

"_Because you put him in command of me!" Revenge roared back in a shriek of hate. "A foul, stinking, human, in charge of ME! How DARE you? Did you really think I would meekly submit?" He turned coy "Would you like to see what I did?"_

_I was stunned to be enveloped in Shadow. My first thought was Revenge can cast Shadow! My second was could Peregrine? Neither of them ever had before. I focused my attention back on the matter at hand. It was a replay of every morally ambiguous act Revenge had ever been privy to. And there were an impressive number of them, clearly I had been an even busier boy than I thought. But the Shadows weren't accurate. There were a handful of slaughtered children to one, in another a brutal rape that I bloody well KNEW hadn't taken place and every act was cast in the worst possible light. I was a pragmatist and truth told Revenge's Shadows were not up to my standards and were thus easily dismissed as false. James thought was, not was, had been, a firm believer in chivalry and honor and all that bloody rot. Many of the things we had done were already a loadstone to his heart even viewed in the best possible light and taken piece meal. Trapped in an onslaught like this it was little wonder he had cracked. I should have HEARD him. It was clear from his ysbyrd that putting a pistol to his temple was not his first, second, or third reaction. I had failed him, utterly, completely, and inexcusably. I had built this monstrosity of a ship. I should have known what he was capable of. And I should have bloody well been PAYING ATTENTION. I'd TOLD him I was here if he needed me and he had screamed himself hoarse trying to get my attention. I should have KNOWN what my own ship was up to. _

_I moved to dispel the Shadows having seen far more than enough when I suddenly realized that killing James wasn't the only mutiny Revenge had in mind. The entire time I had been watching the Shadows, perhaps from the moment I had stepped into the cabin he had been at work. I had thought myself very clever in creating a ship that never required careening or repairs to its hull. Any algae, worm, or barnacle that attached itself to him was converted into his dark wood. This additional wood would move to patch any holes blown in him. He had managed to modify this talent to send tendrils of his 'heart wood' into the minds of the crew and myself in a bid to enslave us. James had been the only remaining none Old Blood crew member. Revenge had been afraid he would prove immune to his plan. I could taste Revenge's triumph when I didn't immediately react. He coveted my talents and wanted to use me to command the Sea so that he could slay at will both on the waves and ashore. I ever so quietly marshaled my own healing talents, waiting for Revenge to overextend himself, waiting for the opportune. Now! I stuck with the blinding speed that was so often my saving grace destroying every tendril both in myself and the crew in less than the blink of an eye. I rounded then on Revenge himself 'I should burn you to your keel!'_

'_But you wont' he retorted, far too smugly for a ship whose plans I had overthrown 'you NEED me or your precious plans will crumble.'_

_I couldn't deny that 'That doesn't necessarily mean I have to leave you your mind' I riposted._

_This time he flinched 'You wouldn't.'_

_I slipped easily into him. My instructors had often emphasized that you had to be very careful with what abilities and nature you gave a lledrith because once it had been awakened there was no changing them. We'd just have to test that now wouldn't we? His ability to cast Shadow was easily found and destroyed. He growled with impotent hate as I cut deeper into his magical existence cleaving and cauterizing but when I came to the crux of the matter I found myself facing a dilemma. I NEEDED him to still be able to heal himself but I had to make certain that he never committed mutiny again as well. Given that to the best of my knowledge no one had ever successfully done what I was attempting I made a few surgically quick cuts that I hoped would solve the problem and slipped back out of him._

'_Revenge?' I wasn't at all certain what the results of my actions would be though I half hoped I had destroyed his mind. _

_I was met by sullen, angry silence. So I put teeth into my next inquiry._

'_Yes? Master' Knowing my dislike of slavery Revenge made damn certain to get that barb in but as long as his barbs were words and nothing more I was inclined to let him have them. I turned my awareness to the crew who seemed to have noticed nothing in spite of the Old Blood in their veins. Now that Revenge could no longer make use of Shadow and I wasn't distracted all I could hear was James screaming for me. I slid down the black wall to sit beside the body. What was I going to say to Henry? How was I going to tell Mary she was a widow? Again, and again by my hand. I had no remorse about killing her first husband. I had been away when the marriage was arranged or I would have stopped it long before the disaster had been consummated. I had warned the son of a bitch of the dangers of raising a hand against someone under my protection and for a few years he had, to my surprise, actually kept his fists to himself. He finally gave in to his baser instincts though and so did I. No one touched Milady Latimer's only child and emerged unscathed, as those who had been entrusted with her care after I arranged her father, Thomas Seymour's, death could vouch. Anger as fresh as the moment Wind brought me word blazed in my breast. They had been going to smother her with a pillow because she was 'too expensive' to keep. I'd found her a good family whose child had just died and then destroyed her erstwhile guardians. So what punishment do I inflict on myself for allowing my ship to kill her beloved second husband leaving her with two young sons to raise without their father? _

'_I have a few suggestions' Revenge whispered. I ignored him, wrapped my arms around my shins, and rested my forehead against me knees wishing I could weep and wondering why I couldn't. I had once thought it was an Ellyllon thing but the years had taught me otherwise. It was something wrong with me. I couldn't weep. Not ever, and I had no idea why. _

'_You made me what I am' Revenge reminded me, twisting the knife. I let him talk, whispering the hate that dwelt in his keel. _

_Hours later I raised my head when Elwyn cautiously stuck his nose into the cabin looking for all the world like a man about to be thrown to the lions._

_When I didn't immediately savage him he cleared his throat, regathered his courage, and said "The lads are wondering what's amiss. What do ye want me to tell them?" _

"_I'll handle it" I said, rising, it was after all, my responsibility._

_I fear, Will, that this is all I have time to tell for my sire's nasty little minions are here._

Commodore Norrington began to turn the page but Jack interrupted him "That'll be enough for now mate. What say ye that we take a bit o a breather and get back to it after a nip?"

"Jack" Elizabeth reminded him "We only have tonight."

"I'm well aware o that lass and I'm keeping a weather eye on the time but the lot o ye look a bit peaked" He turned his head a touch and raised his voice a bit "And since, Mr. Gibbs, ye've seen fit te eavesdrop, be so good as te fetch us a light repast from the galley."

**Historical Notes:**

Once upon a time there really was a boy named Henry Pole, the son of Lord Montague, grandson of the Countess of Salisbury and he really did have a very good claim to the English throne. He was arrested and condemned at the age of 12 to the Tower for a crime he didn't commit. Cromwell himself admitted that there was no just cause against the Poles except for their blood relationship to the Cardinal and to the Throne. He languished there until 1541 when at 15 he was to follow his grandmother to the block but the crowd, horrified at the brutality of the Countess' death, cried out for mercy and so he was returned to the Tower where in 1542 he simply vanishes from all official record.

So often we read tales of princes and princess and we think only of the glitz and glamour but there is a darker side to being royalty that we forget in our daydreams. Some of the tragic bearers of royal blood like Anastasia and Edward V, the prince in the Tower, are well remembered. Some like Lady Jane Grey are less well known but certainly not forgotten. Others like Henry Pole are barely a foot note in the history books. Among my gifts for Christmas of 2003 I received PotC:CotBP and a copy of the Princes in the Tower. I was reading the book while watching the movie when I stumbled across Henry Pole. I'm something of a buff on Tudor history. I knew about his father, uncles, grandmother, and sister but had never heard of him. The author only mentioned him because he remains the only 'royal' child lost in the Tower whose bones have never been found. A search of the entire Tudor section in the local University library turned up only 5 mentions of him, 3 not even by name but only as 'Lord Montague's young son', even thought there were several biographies of his grandmother and uncle.

Henry Pole was ripped out of his comfortable life at the age of twelve, placed in solitary confinement, and, if the few historians who even mention him are correct, was starved to death alone in the dark before he reached sixteen. Not because he had committed some heinous crime but because of the blood running through his veins. He has no known grave. When Edward the VI died in 1553, Queen Mary and his uncle Reginald Pole searched the Tower for him but found nothing. Was his body cast into the Thames? Did he, somehow, against all odds escape? Or do his bones still rest somewhere in the Tower?

**This story is dedicated to him and those like him who history remembers not at all that died for not other reason than the blood in their veins.**

I went to bed that Christmas night trying to decide what the character of the Elven King in my story Q Me? should be, thinking that PotC would be a fun movie to write a fan fic for, and that I should somehow work Henry into my story. I woke up with Mallory in my head and the rough outline of this story dancing behind my eyes. I hope you have and continue to enjoy this bit of madness of mine. I'm afraid though that it will be November before I have another chapter ready since I have to write 'In the Hall of the Elven King' for Q Me? and a chapter for my other story before I can even start the next chapter (Comes a Dragon) for this story.

Ellennar

**Little Bird: ** On the subject of Russia and 'Old Blood'. I had planned to get much more into Mallory's time in Russia but there just isn't time. In my mind Russia has its own magical creatures and its own people who have connections to them. We may yet see the story of Mallory and the rusalka or we might not. It's a firm maybe for the journal chapters. Since Mallory calls them 'Old Blood' for lack of having another term for the Russian crowd but they are distinct from the British Isles Old Blood which are definitely of Ellyllon x human stock.

21


	27. Clear Blue Skies, Deep Blue Seas

**Author's notes: **Kudos to anyone who can spot the Babylon 5 quotes. I had planned to do this in one very long chapter because I think it reads better that way but in the interest of getting something posted before I go sea kayaking in Belize (here's to hoping I don't drown or get eaten by a shark because then you'll never know the rest of the story) I've decided to post the first bit. I have no idea if the song I have Mallory sing would have existed back then or not. In real history Jane's forced marriage to Guildford Dudley took place in May 1553, Edward died in early July, for dramatic purposes I have moved the marriage to July.

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 16: Comes a Dragon: Part A – Bright Blue Skies, Deep Blue Seas**

I felt more refreshed than a little grog and a light dinner had any right to manage considering that I'd had far too little sleep of late. I stole a glance at Jack and the Commodore since they had both had much a harder day than I but both seemed eager to get back to the journal and its secrets before Mallory woke and discovered its absence.

The Commodore passed the journal back to me "You seem to be able to strike the best balance."

I flipped past the pages with Mannwan in the forge only with great difficulty. Seeing what a master Mannwan had been made me long to study under him. I had to admit, Mallory was right, I would have been a far better smith though not a better swordsman if Mannwan would have been the one to teach me.

"Time and tide wait for no one, whelp" Jack reminded and I could feel myself flush. I skimmed quickly ahead passing over his training, Sandro, Lady Latimer's death, and the mardeth since I already knew about them and had passed at least some of it along to Jack and Elizabeth. It was Jane who finally caught my eye…

"_You're really going to do it. You're going to abandon me here" she said bottom lip trembling. If it was Bess or any other female of the court this would be a sham to manipulate me but it isn't, it's Jane, honest Jane who had never and likely would never learn how to dissemble. And I knew through our link just how much the thought of me leaving hurt. I was her stalwart tower, her hiding place, her shelter from the storms of life. _

"_Come with me" I whispered back._

"_I can't, my place is here."_

_She was even more terrified of leaving than she was of staying. I would sooth her fears over the next few months while I built the Peregrine and convince her to come away with me but for today I wanted her to understand why I **needed** to leave without letting her see the full depth of my…transgressions. _

"_I **can't** stay here" I murmured into her ear. She knew very well that there were things I kept from her but she must never have any idea that I was behind Tom's death. "Proverbs says 'Train ye up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.' Skeffington and Cromwell spent years forging me into a weapon but that isn't what **I** want to be."_

"_Then don't be."_

_I could feel my face flush "I don't think I can. It's too easy to remain what I am here. I need to become someone else."_

"_You could become a new a creature in Christ, Rhys. He's the only one that can break the chains on your soul."_

_She sighed; I didn't have to say a word for her to know I wouldn't budge on this "A darkness of the soul can not be cured by moving the body Rhys."_

"_Maybe not, but it will at least reduce the temptation" I hugged her tight "I don't want to leave you" I let her go but kept 'hugging' her through our link 'My heart will never leave you' I swore to her 'no matter how far my flesh may roam.'_

'_Then go and build your ship. I hope you find what you're seeking but I don't think it is to be found by running away.'_

_That stung. I wasn't running away as much seeking who I might be once I was free of my 'ghosts'. There were too many memories and more importantly too much blood in England. I took to the air taking Jane with me in spirit if not in truth. _

The Governor made a very green sound but Commodore Norrington looked like he never wanted to come back down. I never would have expected that of the normally unflappable, feet firmly planted on the ground Commodore. I lingered over the flight as much as I could. The poor Commodore had had an unquestionably miserable day so I figured he could use any little lift he could get.

I very much doubt that James realized that he made a small sound of protest when Mallory finally touched back down but Jack did. I wasn't sure what to make of the appraising glance Captain Sparrow favored the erstwhile Commodore with but I hoped the Jack wasn't planning anything unpleasant before I turned my full attention back to what I was reading.

'_Finally you have come' Sea rejoiced while every wave that brushed the shore whispered 'come to me'. _

"Move along, move along" the parrot cawed as Mr. Not Cotton snatched the book breaking the spell. I hadn't even noticed Norrington, my father, and Jack getting to their feet but they looked like men caught in a waking dream, clearly they had heard the Sea's call and were about to answer. The Commodore looked sheepish; my father chagrined, Jack, Jack was still swaying slightly and staring into the distance.

"Jack?" Elizabeth said trying to snap him out of it. "Sparrow!"

"_Captain_, luv, **_Captain_** Jack Sparrow" he corrected vacantly "I'm comin' luv."

"Jack!" my father shouted and snagged his arm before he could leave the cabin. Jack snarled and turned on him the barrel of his pistol resting as if by magic between my father's eyes. The tableau held for heartbeat in which I forgot how to breath before Jack jerked and dropped the gun staring at his hand as if he wasn't certain it was his own and his dark rimmed eyes went impossibly wide.

Fingers twitching he tried to give my father one of his most charming smiles but it fell utterly flat. Jack didn't rattle easily but he was clearly deeply shaken. Instead of tucking the pistol back into his sash he laid it out of easy reach before saying tentatively "No harm done, mate?"

"No harm done" my father replied and they nodded on it before reclaiming their seats.

Jack swallowed and then nodded for me to continue. I skipped down a paragraph hoping that was far enough to be clear of the Sea's call.

_I learned as much from my instructors as I could before they left but it wasn't enough. They had been recalled too soon, there was so much I had left to learn, so much I didn't know. I knew how to continue 'weaving' 'substance' that another had started but had never started a 'weaving' myself. Since I had regularly bedazzled my instructors I hadn't given the gap in my knowledge a second thought but as I glared at my fifth failed attempt to start Peregrine's keel I knew I needed more instruction the question was were any of the Alltude in the note Mannwan had left me capable of providing it? From the tone Mannwan was less than impressed with them though he was undoubtedly biased. I didn't need to pull out the obviously quickly scribbled note it was branded into my mind. They hadn't even said farewell, they had just left with no explanation at all leaving me bereft and wounded in the middle of France responsible for the safety of what was left of the caravan. _

_If there is any blame for all of this I can lay at the feet of my instructors it is the fact that they wrote NOTHING, told me NOTHING, Mallory-in-the carchar grumbled, about what my Grandsire's plans had been nor about my Sire's character. In their defense I doubt they knew the full plan any more than I do even now but they might have left me some warning, or at least an explanation of why they left. _

Even in the carchar, even knowing why they had left you could feel the echo of how abandoned Mallory had felt when he awoke from his fight with the mardeth to find them gone.

_I had yet to contact any of them but I had sent Wind to find them and had been keeping an ear on them. Lluniwer of House Estron was probably the best bet given the information that I had which was one of the reasons I had picked this particular beach. I ordered the sand off of my person and clothing and started inland. _

"_Unclean, unclean, unclean" a deep baritone voice intoned from deep in its shrouding cloud of leper's rags. It was a clever disguise for an Ellyllon with no ability to weave Shadow. I followed him far more silent than a ghost wondering what he looked like under the rags. According to Argellion the High Houses each had specialty talents that they bred for more rigorously than nobles did their horses. Estron apparently took Mannwan's house Glanio's belief in the divinity of the Draig's a few steps further. Believing that the Ellyllon were still too close to their human roots the House Estron had striven not so much for talent as inhuman appearance. I shivered in spite of the warmth in the summer air what kind of existence could he have here with all respectable cyfae and Ellyllon forced to pretend he didn't exist and shunned by humans as a leper? I thanked both the Draigs and Jane's God for my ability to weave Shadow since I didn't particularly care for the notion of spending my days alone. _

_To my relief he was giving every sign of looking for a suitable place to make camp for the night so I left Wind to watch him while I quickly caught and filleted a couple of fish. Combined with the provisions I had brought with me I should be able to cook a simple but savory meal for us. _

_While he was away at the steam drawing water I slipped easily into his campsite and wrapped the little glade in Shadow hiding myself, the meal I was preparing, and his meager belongings._

_He froze on the edge of the glen wary as a hunted animal, which is exactly what he was. If any dynol eyes should happen to fall upon him the results would not be pretty and he clearly knew it. _

"_Unclean" he shouted the word with a slightly desperate edge "You don't want yer fingers te fall off do ye. They will ye know if ye touch a leper or a leper's things."_

_I dispelled the Shadow on his belongs. He swallowed even more frightened now._

"_It's quite unkind of you to play tricks on old Lluniwer" he said voice reasonably steady for the amount of what I was certain was fear roiling through his enaid. "Who are you and what do you want?"_

_I revealed the nearly done fish with the bread and cheese tastefully arrayed on a heavily Shadow enhanced tray. I had Wind speak from the far side of the glen "I would like to discuss an agreement over supper." I returned in my best El'lan._

"_I prefer to be able to see my companions" he rejoined no less nervous. _

_I cast the Shadow I had prepared. None of my instructors had been the Udd of House Rith but Argellion was a fine artist and I had badgered him until he produced a number of family histories complete with sketches. Troi was based on a glyw of House Rith. If I had understood the dynamics of Avalon's Great Houses, and I trusted Argellion's instincts on such matters even more than my own, the erstwhile Udd of Lluniwer would have had no reason to interact with a glyw of Rith but they would likely had passed in the halls. It should be enough to establish the credentials for the accord I was about to propose. Since Lluniwer had been striped of all rank when he was banished I didn't bother having the Shadow give him the appropriate bow from a glyw to an Udd. I had the hollow Shadow step forward as every detail blended seamlessly into the surrounding environment. Perfection. Generally, the further a Shadow is from the caster the less real it appears which was why Argellion in particular had insisted on actually seeing the one I had cast on Henry when Mannwan told him about it. Of course I had simply HAD to go one better. Conventional wisdom held that celu Shadows, the ones that merely hid a thing could be cast indefinitely but ymatebol Shadows, ones that had to actually move in any way, could only be cast over a living being. Most particularly those that were impersonating a human had to be cast over an Ellyllon and even then only those at the level of campwr or dysgwr could do it well. Bah! I was far, far beyond campwr with Shadows. I had always thought the in addition to Heir of Sea and Fire Argellion really should have added Grand Master of Shadow to my title. I had **earned** it. I had never been to Avalon but just looking at my teachers faces I knew I was the best of the best. Better even than my mother, Queen Titigalia who was considered the best in Avalon (perhaps Argellion hadn't assigned me that particular title out of courtesy?). I shivered remembering her hunting us in the maze, definitely best not to usurp my mother's place! _

_As the Shadow of Troi ap Bellon of House Rith chanted the invocation to the Draigs I considered possible titles Argellion could have bestowed on me other than the Heir of Sea and Fire. Shadow was out since that might infringe upon my mother's territory, never a wise move when dealing with a child of the Blood, but I was also already (to everyone else's chagrin) a quite potent healer and according to Argellion a necromancer – why not the Lord of Life and Death?_

"And ye claim I'm too cocky" Jack complained to the ceiling and one presumed to the unconscious Mallory above. "Ye sincerely considered christening yerself the Lord o' Life and Death? Talk about full of yerself. Me apologies for the interruption, whelp, pray continue."

'_Rhys!' Jane's voice through our link sounded completely aghast. I winced. I should have shielded that particular thought a bit more carefully. 'That's blasphemy. There is only one Lord of Life and Death and he is **NOT **thee!'_

'_I was just day dreaming' I defended. _

'_Heir of Sea and Fire fits thee perfectly' she continued quite unmollified and in her most formal mode. I made a very quiet note to myself to be more discrete in the future. 'Hast not Sea said that no one else hath ever spoken to Her? Doth not Fire serve you in a way it hath no other? There hath undoubtedly been many healers and necromancers amongst thine people. How dost thou knowest that thou doth reign supreme? Thine pride couldst receive a fatal wound should thou boast in vain.'_

_I allowed that it was a good point while not believing for a second that Avalon held a healer with more potential than I. There were undoubtedly healers with more knowledge since I had received no training but I was willing to wager that with a few years practice I could match them. I honestly had no notion about necromancy and no real desire to explore without a talented practitioner of the art to advise me. I pointedly turned the bulk of my attention back to Lluniwer and my Shadow of Troi while thinking very, very quietly that Lord of Life and Death still had a nice ring to it._

_There had been little conversation since Lluniwer acted like a man who hadn't seen a decent meal in a very long time once he saw Troi "eating" (Wind was perfectly happy to flip tidbits to me as we made a game of me catching them in my mouth while the Shadow merely appeared to eat). I was surprised to see that his hands were wrapped as well. Odd, I would have thought that that would be one thing he wouldn't have to disguise. Something was off about the way he moved (or in point of fact didn't move) his hands as well. _

_Lluniwer finally looked up "How fares King Mathon?"_

_I had cultivated a friendship with the gwragedd annwn since they came and went a great deal between Avalon and the Outlands. They were powerless but also largely overlooked since they were water sprites their movements and usefulness were limited but they did bring me some word of my homeland. Apparently my father's rule was less than popular but the gwragedd had no access to the Citadel so I had no word on how my instructors fared which was most vexing but I supposed at some point I would be taking my proper place as Crown Prince of Avalon and would be reunited with them. I fully intended to live up to the reputation of a wonder worker that I had already established. _

"_The old King is dead his son now rules in his stead." _

_Lluniwer went still for a moment before pulling a dagger and lunging through the Shadow. I dispersed it leaving Lluniwer sprawled in a heap. If I had been inclined to kill he had just given me a golden opportunity but I (probably) needed him alive. Silly git. I firmly moved my hand away from all my 'toys' and instead used Wind to cast my voice ten feet to the right and said in a scolding tone "Now that wasn't very nice."_

_Lluniwer whirled clearly thinking that the location of the voice was a lie and that his antagonist was directly behind him. I rolled my eyes. As if I'd be that obvious._

"_What kind of cyfae are you? Did the Hobgoblin send you?" He paused "No, not cyfae, there's a trace of…a Rigion then."_

_Damn! Dirwyn and I had worked for months trying to…soften the Song of the Blood. Apparently the Blood of House Penthalion could be sensed by any Ellyllon or cyfae and even most Old Blood from miles away which meant I could be bloody tracked any damn where. Mannwan had been aghast at the mere suggestion that I should even attempt to stifle the Song of the Blood, Argellion had thought it was futile, that I was simply far too powerful already, Dirwyn hadn't been much more hopeful but had been willing to help me try. After all how much good was an assassin whose stealth was ruined by the very Blood in his veins? I had thought I'd managed to silence it completely, clearly I was mistaken._

"_Show your self and we can talk. Otherwise get thee gone. I've had enough of games." Lluniwer spat and from the look of his enaid he meant it._

_I quickly crafted a new Shadow. I'd never met a Rigion but since the Rigion were descended from Penthalion bastards with Outland Old Blood women it stood to reason that there should be some resemblance but not too much after all if there were a large number of people wandering the world as beautiful as I I surely would have heard about it. So…a bit too narrow between the eyes, a little too broad in the jaw, a smidge too high in the forehead and perfection is completely ruined. Let's see young but not as young as I perhaps sixteenish? I added a few blemishes to the skin in my mind's eye shifted the hair from deep blue to a pale brown and changed the eye color to hazel. Hmmm a predominant enaid color of blue with green undertones. Satisfied with the image in my thoughts I formed it for Lluniwer. _

"_What is your name boy?"_

"_Meredydd ap Emyr."_

_Lluniwer made a sound that I interpreted as amusement "And what does 'The Lord of the Sea' son of the 'Ruler'" he said, translating the name, "want with me?"_

"_Your knowledge" I retorted swiftly while making the Shadow look more green and nervous than I would ever allow myself to be._

"_And what would you do with my knowledge, little boy?"_

_Wider experience of the world had led me to disagree with many of Cromwell's philosophies but I'd seen his 'the universe runs on enlightened self-interest' proven too often to discount it._

"_To do whatever I can to put the Old Blood back in power."_

"_So you want to be **King** do you Meredydd ap Emyr?"_

_I shrugged "Only if I'm strong enough to take it and hold it" but I put a hungry, ambitious look in the Shadows eyes and enaid. _

_Lluniwer for the first time straightened to his full height. Great Draigs he was huge, he would have even towered over the Mouldwarp. Seven feet if an inch but thin, too thin I suspected. He hadn't eaten like a starving man but once upon a time he had been a Lord of his House and I was willing to bet that the court in Avalon wasn't that different – never admit a weakness. He swaggered forward clearly intending to intimidate. I didn't even think about it I just had the Shadow do exactly what I would do. I glared letting the Draig flare to life and Lluniwer fell back a step in clear shock. As I fought to rein the Draig back in before I utterly gave the game away._

"_Not in over a thousand years has there been one such as you" he whispered in awe._

"_That's what Troi of Rith said. He was assisting me while on his Taithe but with the old King's death he was recalled Under the Hill. I've been looking for someone to take his place for several years." I sharpened the Shadow's eyes making him look eager, proud, and ready to take on the world if it stood in his way. I added a fair supply of brash arrogance since it seemed appropriate to the character I was crafting. "I have heard that you were banished to the Outlands for life. Wouldn't you prefer being advisor to a King to" I had the Shadow wave a hand condescendingly "all this luxury?" _

_Even under all the rags with no way to see his eyes or face I could tell Lluniwer was amused. _

"_It's a fine goal to be sure but it will be some time ere you sit on the throne. What coin do you have to pay in today?"_

"_Shadow" I retorted "As you saw I'm quite skilled. You won't have to stay here shrouded in rags. You can walk freely among men and buy what you need."_

"_Buy with what?" he cut me off bitterly "My wealth was taken."_

"_But surely with your ability to weave substance you"_

_He began to laugh and a more wretched sound I had rarely heard. He slowly unwound the filthy rags from his right hand revealing a wizened green claw twisted and misshapen. I tentatively brushed them with my ichae. I had never tried healing an Ellyllon before I had no idea if he could sense me checking his wounds. He gave no sign of noticing my intrusion so I delved deeper. Years, possibly decades ago, someone had done a superlative job of destroying his hands. A master torturer's work, no mistake, no accident would have been either so careful or so thorough. Each bone had been individually smashed, tendons severed at multiple points, and then entire thing very clearly forced to heal utterly wrong. I nearly had them in my own hands before I stopped myself. I didn't know if I could fix them. I was a marvel with new wounds but these were so old and scarred. The body had accepted them as natural. Why had this been done to him?_

_I had the Shadow's face drain of color in horror and shifted the enaid far into orange tones "Why? Who? I had the Shadow whisper._

"_The current King" he replied. I was getting the distinct impression that my father was not exactly the nicest of Ellyllon. Of course, kings rarely are and he might have excellent reasons for his behavior…_

_Stupid, STUPID, **STUPID**. Draigs what an optimistic little **fool** I was, Will. I really, truly have no one to blame but my idiot self for walking into this trap. The warning signs were all there. The rumors of petty cruelties, the tense silences, I should have realized they indicated more than a King who firmly believed that it is better to be feared than loved. _

I understood exactly why Mallory had made the mistake he did because I knew what it felt like to never know your father as anything but a distant rumor. I had longed my whole life to know my father and so had Mallory. I could, for lack of a better term, sense it in the Blood. He'd been enough of a courtier that he hadn't expected to be loved, hoped for it deep down in a place he would never admit existed, but had never ever expected it. He had expected a period of wary feinting followed by attempts to use him as a pawn which would lead to either guarded respect and potential alliance or mutual dislike and rivalry. He had never expected to be savaged and while he knew quite well he'd been trained to kill his father he had had no intention of doing so, at least at first. I glanced at my own father across the cabin. Yes, I had been disappointed but maybe that was inevitable. I shook myself and returned to reading. The scene in the journal shifted abruptly.

_Nimrais, Chosen by Nimrais. It wasn't exactly a surprise, from the instant I had wrapped my frozen, dead fingers around Risanca I'd known which Draig would be laying claim to me, today just made it official, except Angnar had refused to cede his claim which was, so far as I knew, a unique occurrence. Regardless the entirety of my future kingdom would now be betting that I would live to see a 150. Bugger'um. Estimates of my eventual lifespan (baring a horrible, mysterious, lonely death) ranged from over a thousand to eternity and I fully intended to survive to see them all. I finished picking my way over the great bones the Draigs had left scattered over the Plain and squared my shoulders to meet my escort to the Citadel. Now that I was clear of the Archos a Draig I reached out for the Wind. The Winds of Avalon and the Outlands did not mingle or speak to each other and I was eager to get the 'weather gauge' of Avalon. The response was sluggish, as if the air of Avalon had not moved in some time and when it finally whispered to me the 'stench' nearly made me wretch. An East Wind, was my first thought, a Russian wind. Pain, terror, despair swirled in a sluggish eddy around my feet as if the Wind here didn't have the spirit do anything but crawl. _

_I should have turned and run right then, Will, but retreat never occurred to me, nor did occur to me that I might have been better off observing the situation from the hinterlands. I was a courtier, and it never entered my head that becoming an outlaw might have been a better approach than riding straight into my enemy's stronghold. And seeing even a Wind I didn't know in such a state stirred both the healer and the Draig in me to something that never would have listened to good sense anyway. I rode to this disaster with a burning **need** to set things right in Avalon. A need that haunts me still even buried alive. But I'm getting ahead of myself and given that what I impart onto these pages may be all that is left of my heart and soul if my sire has his way it is best that I keep things in as much order as possible._

Despite his intent his memories did not shift back to Lluniwer but to Henry.

"_Now there is a sight I never thought to see" Henry observed from the bed with both cats curled comfortably on his chest. Two days of freedom and Milady Latimer (who had no idea what had really happen but still had an amazing knack for doing the exactly right things) had done wonders. He was still far too 'flat' for my peace of mind but things were starting to flit through. I expected at some point in the next few days things would rapidly get difficult. It was my experience that many who survived torture destroyed themselves a few days or weeks later when the full weight of what had happened to them hit suddenly and with nothing to fight they just crumbled. I had no intention of letting Henry face that moment alone when it came._

"_What?" I said as I snuggled a bit deeper into my own comfortable perch in the window seat. My sparrow complained a little about the jostling and then went back to eating the seeds I held cupped in my hand._

"_**You**, nervous and uncertain."_

_I gave him a scathing glance "I am neither."_

"_Friends don't lie to each other Rhys." Henry was angry. I was actually glad to see he was still capable of it. From what I had seen of the world friends most definitely lied to each other but maybe they didn't in the strange world Milady Latimer and the Poles lived in. I had seen Henry at his worst you could say it was only fair to confess to my own…trepidation. The world is not and likely never will be fair. But Henry had already tossed me out on my proverbial pointy ear once I didn't want him to do it ever again._

"_I want to learn everything he can teach me, I need to but" I licked my lips._

"_You're afraid" he said quietly._

_I bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep from snapping 'am not'. My new tutor had played the dutiful groom the entire time humans were present with only the request that I secure him a forge somewhere we would be unlikely to be interrupted (no easy task in the heart of London). I had fulfilled the request yesterday but then informed him that it would be several days before I would be free to spend any time with him. He had accepted my statement without comment and then gone first to the Tower followed by Hampstead Court and Nonesuch. I suspected that he was interrogating the stones of all of my regular haunts but my ability to commune with stone was dicey on a good day so I had no idea what kind of information he was getting… or what he would think of it. I knew he hadn't been happy with much of what had happened the night we had rescued Henry._

_Henry slid out of the bed to stand next to me. He shivered slightly at the view. He wanted out, he wanted to be free but just being able to see out the window nearly unmanned him. Damn Skeffington, Cromwell, and the Mouldwarp to hell. I turned to leave the window seat but he stopped. _

"_No, I have to start facing the world again sometime" he drew several deep breaths before continuing. "Now what are you afraid of?"_

_I wanted to snap at him but that was hardly going to do him any good so I turned just a little away. _

_He caught my chin but exerted only the slightest of pressure back towards himself. I acquiesced and faced him._

"_Friendship has to go both ways, Rhys, you can't always be the one to give." _

_I could feel him trembling ever so slightly. He needed a distraction. He needed me to let him believe he was helping me. He needed me to be weak. Oh, very well, just this once. I sighed far more melodramatically than I ever would if I wasn't conceding to his needs "What if he's another Cromwell?" I licked my lips nervously "Just someone who wants to manipulate me into doing his dirty work. There's no one else for me to ask. No way for me to tell if he's lying to me."_

_Henry frowned and some of the trembling eased as he seemed to forget that he was standing in front of an open window while mulling things over._

"_You said you see souls" he had never, ever liked the concept "can he lie to you? I mean, yes, Cromwell might have managed that but that was when you were first learning about people. You're not three any more Rhys" he gave me the closest thing to a real smile that I'd seen in years. "he won't be able to hoodwink you." He glared a little "You don't expect me to believe that that is all that's troubling you, do you?"_

"_He's stronger than I am."_

_This time he openly scoffed "Since when has that ever even slowed you down? Rhys, what is really troubling you?"_

"_He knows things I don't and he's far stronger than anything I've ever tangled with" except the strange being that my grandfather had sent. It had been awe inspiringly strong. "Skeffington almost killed me, Henry, I don't know that I could survive if this Mannwan means me harm."_

_He sobered "Do you really think he means to hurt you?"_

_I shook my head "No, no I don't think so." Actually I thought quite the opposite._

"_Rhys, please."_

"_What if I'm not good enough?" I whispered finally giving voice to my deepest concern. Oh, the first two hadn't been lies but they certainly never would have even given me much pause the knowledge I could gain from Mannwan was well worth the risk of either._

"_Not good enough?!" Henry looked at me like I'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "Rhys you're fluent in eight languages, you have the sharpest mind of anyone I've ever known, you fight like a fiend, you ride like a centaur, you play like a master, you can speak to the air, communicate with lions, birds, cats, and God knows what else, walk through stone, cast illusions that boggle the mind, summon fire, see the dead, and heal" he finally ran out of things and just blinked at me._

"_But what if every elf can do all that? Henry, he had you out of that cell in seconds and I spent years at it. " I ducked my head unable to even look at him. "He speaks to all the stones. I can only speak to a few."_

"_Oh Rhys" he hugged me, I fought not to stiffen, Henry was just like that. "You are the most loyal friend anyone could ever have. You are rare, special, and unique and I bet you're better than he is at more than half my list. You're not God, Rhys, you aren't omnipotent. You aren't **supposed** to be omnipotent. We each have gifts and weakness and sometimes we have to lean on each other. You can't always be the best at everything." He gave me a little shove "Rhys go. I swear I'll be fine and when you get back you can show me everything you've learned. You'll amaze him. Besides for as long as I've known what you are I've known how badly you've wanted this."_

_As I started to walk out he said very quietly to my back "You don't always have to be the strong one Rhys. Someday you are going to be the one who needs help, please don't be afraid to accept it."_

_I didn't respond since it would have led to an argument. I could handle myself just fine thank-you-very-much and I was in full agreement that it was always better to give than to receive. No, I wouldn't be needing or accepting any help, not now, not ever._

_It didn't take long to reach the well stocked blacksmith shop that I had purchased for Mannwan. From the smoke and racket I assumed that he was working within but sent Wind in ahead. The pack of freakish hounds raised their heads as I entered but their master paid me no mind._

God, the mastery. I could watch Mannwan work metal all day. The efficient skill of every hammer stroke was a work of art.

Jack cleared his throat pointedly. I flushed and returned to reading.

_I waited watching him work for the better part of an hour. Only when he was satisfied with what he was working on did he set it aside and turn to me. With his sleeves rolled up I had had a very good view of the scars my teeth had left along his forearm._

"_I am sorry, please forgive me."_

_He looked utterly taken aback before finally saying "For what?"_

"_For what I did to your arm" I could still remember the terror when I had, at long last, been brought to bay by this very pack of hounds. I had thought I was about to be torn asunder and devoured alive and I had fought with every fiber of my being. I could still remember the taste of blood and then bone but the strong arms had never even flinched nor he had he made a single move to harm me. _

"_I am of House Glanio, we stand at House Penthalion's right hand to serve in any capacity required though it cost us all that we are. My King has entrusted me with the most precious jewel of his kingdom, to protect and to teach you all that I know. I am honored above my worth but I will do my humble best for you."_

_I would bet my life he actually meant that. Damn. What do you say to that? There were, of course, any number of glib or witty answers I could make and would have, to another courtier, but this was no Skeffington, no Cromwell, no Thomas Seymour before me. Statements like that, when spoken in truth, from the depths of the heart require, nay, demand, something better. Completely at a loss I said nothing and the silence stretched long. _

"_I have spoken long to the stones" he said at length "in an attempt to gauge the breadth of your skills and the depth of your knowledge. Your range of gifts is very great, far great than my own. I will need to report them to the King so that additional teachers can be sent." Another pause. To my surprise I realized I trusted this elf, implicitly, but I did not trust his King in the slightest and I had no intention of revealing anything. He forged on when I still did not speak. _

"_We already knew that you had an astounding command of Shadow. There is no need to send for anyone, for you could already teach the best in Avalon. There are none who can best me with Earth, Weapons, or the Hunt so I will teach you those. You seem to have a knack with Wind and while I am not even a Dechreuwr Awel I sense that you could go much further with proper training. We knew either Sea or Fire would be Anterth for you but I now suspect you will have great skill with both. You are good with beasts but I suspect that this is a llai, a lesser gift. You move too quickly to not have temporal abilities. Have I missed anything?"_

_I shrugged. I noted that he hadn't mentioned my ability to see the dead and he had been rather displeased by it the other night. Interesting. _

_My silence was beginning to distress him "My prince have I given some offense?"_

_I shook my head still not quite certain what to make of this 'gift' of my grandfather's. Why now? Why not from the beginning? Why Cromwell and Skeffington? Most importantly what game was the Elf King playing? I thought back to my one 'meeting' with the man, elf, whatever. Still terrified of being eaten (and incidentally, still desperately gnawing on Mannwan's forearm) a firm hand had wrenched my head painfully up. Mannwan had made a small sound of protest and looking at the moment through more experienced eyes he had been torn, wanting to lash out at whoever had presumed to hurt me, except the hard hands had belonged to his King. Green eyes so very like my own, canny, wary, calculating, proud but with hair every bit as green as his eyes. I didn't trust him, wouldn't ever trust him and Mannwan was ultimately his pawn. _

_He sighed and some of his own nervousness leaked through. "You have been ill used, my prince, and if you had not already taken care of your tormentors I would have." He was angry, but not at me, and upset "It is not my place to doubt the wisdom of the King nor to question his commands. I am a warrior, my prince, and a warrior's code is simple. I will die ere I allow any outside House Penthalion to harm you, I will train you to the best of my abilities, and I will never lie to you. It will not be easy, for you have much to learn and I am not good at teaching. I do not give praise that has not been earned, I make no allowances for sloth, and I will accept nothing less than your absolute best but I will **never** beat you nor allow another to do so. But I can do nothing if you refuse to speak to me."_

"_Nich a cha nicta tah. Ilya natal." I said still not certain how to answer this elf who, while he reminded me a little of Henry's father, was completely outside my experience of the world "What does it mean?"_

_He glanced down "I don't know. It isn't El'lan but Elamite. King Mathon has sent many messages of late to the Lord of Aratta. That was one of the answers but for meaning you will have to ask either the King or the Lord. I do not share your gift for languages my prince and speak only El'lan and English."_

"_The Lord of Aratta?"_

"_The Lord of Aratta's domains are speckled through much of what these people you live among call 'the Otherworld' but the oldest, the core of his realm, is the fortress city of Aratta far to the south east. Little is known of the Lord despite a long alliance with House Penthalion. I can tell you nothing except that the Lord of Aratta was feared even by the great Draigs and is not to be approached lightly. Which would you like to begin with, my prince, El'lan, weapons, Earth, or the Hunt?"_

'_Oh, Mannwan how I failed you' Mallory in the carchar sighed. I could see the hope in your eyes when stepped into my father's throne room, could see it fade when you realized I was no match for his Gorchymyn, and when he tortured me I could see your brave heart breaking and that cut deeper than either whip or blade. I imagined something so much different, Draigs how I wanted to **earn** your praise. You **gave** me your loyalty and your respect but I want to be **worthy** of it so badly. _

There was a flash of something I couldn't quite make out that I suspected I didn't want to see anyway before Mallory forced his attention back to the more distant past and Lluniwer.

_My fingers twitched to have a go at fixing Lluniwer's hands. I forced the impulse down only with difficulty. Strange, I had come under Milady Latimer's tutelage to enjoy healing but never before had I burned to set something right the way I did now. I swallowed the urge down as it rose again and took a step back nearly snapping a twig as I did so. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, and sloppy gets you killed. According to Mannwan's note Lluniwer had been a campwr nydd by mutilating his hands my father had robbed him of his magic and surely as my grandfather had taken his power as head of a Great House. This bundle of rags had once been an equal with Argellion, higher in status even than Mannwan who was a pennaeth of House Glanio since his elder brother was Udd. I wondered if he had done something to deserve this or if like Henry he was an innocent victim. No, no, innocent. Argellion had sharpened my already keen ability to judge character. I didn't trust Lluniwer with my back and unless I could find a way to heal his hands without revealing that Meredydd was no more real than Troi of Rith they would stay as they were. _

"_There are still many things I can teach you, boy, even if I can't work magic myself anymore, but I need more than just a Shadow. I need a pair of hands. Are you willing to do that?"_

_Did I want the Peregrine badly enough to put myself at this Ellyllon's mercy? Not for a bloody instant. There was no way in Jane's Hell I was going to let this creature have free rein with my hands._

"_No."_

"_Just for a month, so you can see that it is worth it."_

"_Not for an instant."_

"_Then we have nothing more to discuss. A pity you might have gone far. Now you will live and die a peasant. The only question is will it be old in your bed with your spirit long crushed or screaming in flames?"_

_I had the Shadow give him a cocky grin "Not likely."_

"_Youthful bravado will not save you from the stake." _

"_I have a different proposition for you. Answer every question I ask truthfully, to the best of your knowledge, and without omission and I will see to it that you are fed and clothed for as long as I, Meredydd ap Emyr, live."_

_He scoffed "Clothed in rags and fed on gruel in some peasant's hut."_

"_I think I can do a bit better than that. Have you ever heard of Lord Tallyrand?"_

"_A minor lordling who spends most of his time at court to the detriment of his small, but if they were managed properly, valuable estates. The only thing he seems concerned with is the quality of his horses which are by all reports extremely fine."_

_Apparently once a courtier always a courtier. I was willing to bet that despite being a pariah barely surviving on the fringes of society Lluniwer was still desperately collecting every scrap of information he could find on the off chance that he might be able to turn it to his advantage. The truth was I simply hadn't the time (or frankly the interest) to properly attend to my estates. My stables flourished under Matthew Blake's guiding hand but what I really needed was a good steward. I didn't honestly know when (or if) I would be returning to England once I left but this could work to both Lluniwer and my own advantage. I couldn't trust him as far as I could throw him so I would have to arrange things so that it was in his own best interest to remain loyal but if I could ensure that then I doubted I could find a better steward in all of England. He had been Udd of his House and in Avalon Lordship of a Great House did not simply pass to the eldest son. It was taken by the family member who by either strength or guile could take it and hold it (unless, like Argellion, you were the only surviving member of your Bloodline). _

"_I completely agree and so would Rhys. He is himself Old Blood as are most of the servants and peasants." While I had no intention of taking Cromwell's cause as my own I had been quietly collecting Old Blood on my estates. "He's our man in the court. He's been seeking rather diligently for an Old Blood steward for some time. A good word from me with a well crafted Shadow and it could be yours."_

_I had him. He was trying to be nonchalant but I had him. He could never have the power he had once wielded back but the years as a leper had made him keen for any crumbs. _

"_How do I know you will keep your end of the bargain?"_

"_You don't. You'll just have to impress Lord Tallyrand with your enthusiasm ere you've ceased to be useful. Besides what do you have to lose? Even if I am utterly faithless, a few months of good food, decent cloths, and a servant to see to your needs is more than you would have had."_

_It wasn't the bargain he'd wanted but it was the best he was going to get and he knew it._

"_Besides your people can see a lie and I'm not lying."_

"_Not now" he allowed "but you could always change your mind."_

"_Serve Lord Tallyrand and I faithfully and he will not abandon you."_

_I amused him but he said nothing._

"_It would be easier to craft the Shadow if I see you properly."_

_He reached up with his ruined claws to paw at the rags wrapped round his head but they hardly twitched. We'd be all bloody day at this rate. I sent Wind ahead to tell Lynn to that Lord Tallyrand was ordering Blake to collect one Meredydd ap Emyr and Lluniwer post haste along the east road and to bring some garments of, hmmm, it was hard to estimate his size under the rags and I had no clue what color would suit him. Even a simple robe would be better than the rags though and I would find or have something more suitable made later. _

_After watching him scrabble ineffectually at the 'garments' for several minutes I finally offered "Would you like some assistance?" Personally I'd have burned in Jane's Hell first in his place but Lluniwer was either less proud or more pragmatic than I._

_I rapidly wished that I had held my tongue or brought a pair of gloves because this was utterly repugnantly disgusting. Clearly as one piece of mismatched scavenged cloth became too threadbare he had merely layered another over it. I had wondered when I saw what was left of his hands how he could eat with the cloth in the way and with no dexterity. I would have been much happier if the answer (which was not very well) had remained a mystery. The bits of rotting food that were scattered in the fraying cloth had attracted vermin and not only did the entire thing **reek** but it was all but glued to his head. In exasperation I pulled one of my throwing knives. Lluniwer flinched which surprised me, looking at this mess I would have assumed he couldn't see a blessed thing through it. _

"_Just hold still and I swear I won't cut you."_

_He drew a steadying breath and I started slicing through the sticky layers. After some diligent sawing (and a number of vermin banes, the pesky little creatures were quite enthusiastic about their erstwhile home) I was finally able to peel the front free. Fortunately Ellyllon generally grew only the sparest of facial hair and apparently Lluniwer none at all. Well, I wasn't certain what I was expecting under the rags since Argellion had merely said 'not human' but the green skin was a surprise. Ghastly shade, though to be fair he probably wasn't usually so pale and slightly grey. Argellion had also mentioned that an Ellyllon could starve for decades I didn't think things were quite that bad for Lluniwer but he was decidedly hungry and it showed. I couldn't decide if the bizarre brow ridges and sharp cheeks would look better with a little more flesh on them or not but they certainly needed a cleaning before he got anywhere near one of my horses. Which only left **me** to clean him up, lovely, just lovely. Ah, well, if it must be done (and it was long overdue) then best it be done quickly. _

"_I think I'm going to have to shave your head to get the rest off." And get a ladder I said to myself. Hovering in place was even harder than flying. "I'll fetch some wash water so that it will be heated by the time I'm ready…" I stopped since Lluniwer's eyes were going progressively more wild._

"_My Shadow will hold, I've sent ahead for some fresh clothing. I confess I didn't realize how tall you are so it will be a bit short" (and in all the wrong shade for his skin tone but I would remedy that later) "wouldn't you like to be clean before the groom arrives with the cloths and horses?"_

_He was panicking I continued in my most soothing tones "I'm not going to turn you over to the Church. Blake is Old Blood. Lord Tallyrand is quite fussy about cleanliness and while my Shadow can hide the rags you, well, it isn't your fault, but quite frankly you stink. I would think that you would want to make the best impression possible"_

"_Do it." He didn't look any too sure and I wasn't certain he wasn't going to bolt when I went for water but he was still there when I returned looking slightly more at ease with the idea that I was about to replace his entire stock of worldly possessions._

_I set the bucket by the fire so that he wouldn't be surprised when the water was warm and hoped that he was too distracted to realize I was going to be using far more than one tiny bucket on him. I also started slowly warming the air so he wouldn't take a chill when it was time to finish stripping him. At some point faint trembling turned to silent tears and finally to sobs. His enaid was a firestorm and unlike the strange creature my grandsire had once sent to look me over I was no mind reader. Oh, I could make some educated guesses but I simply kept up a soothing patter of nonsense mostly gleaned from the most innocuous of Winds' news and let him sort himself out. When he was finally clean I started weaving Shadow softening his sharp features, covering the green flesh, pointed ears, and cat's eyes. I melded and molded the Shadow over him tying it to his own enaid so that it didn't actually need me to support it. Oh, I could still dispel it if I had cause (and was feeling merciless) but it would never falter from my lack. He would never be accused of being pretty, but it had a certain dark charm which I though suited both the panes of his true face and his enaid. _

"_Just in time" I said "Master Blake is nearly here."_

I decided to skip ahead since settling Lluniwer in as steward didn't really catch my eye and Mallory in the carchar's own interest seemed to have waned since the memories lacked the 'edge' I had started looking for in the long narrative to guide me to the things he considered important. I paused again further down the page.

_It had taken me several weeks both to carve out the free time and to prepare. This time I **would** lay the Peregrines keel. I knelt in the sand straddling the line where the dark wood would form under my fingers spun from Sea and Air. Lluniwer would scoff at me that wood was a product of Earth buffeted by Sea and Air but I intended to create ship that would never be harmed by them and so I would do the impossible, I would create it from them. I had already crafted much of the wood of the hull & deck so I knew that it could be done but this was different, every lledrith had to have a 'heart' and for a ship it was the keel. What I did today would determine just who my ship would be. I took another deep breath trying to still the faint trembling of my fingers. What emotions and thoughts I invoked here would be the ones that colored this vessel for the rest of his existence. It was a heady and frightening thought but I would be equal to the challenge. So, first my own prime emotion as was proper since we would be partners as long as we lived. Peregrine would be born in joy, to joy I added the kindness and love of Milady Latimer, the stubbornness of Jane, the wisdom of Argellion, the honor of Mannwan, the friendship of Henry, the loyalty of Lord Montague, the innocence of Sandro, and the grace of Dirwyn. As I wove I held firmly to the greatest strengths of those who were dear to me forging the good that they had taught me into the wood forming under my fingers allowing nothing else into my mind until at long last I reached the end. I wiped the sweat from my eyes swaying with an exhaustion that had the world spinning. If I was wise I would rest but I wanted to waken the beam and see what I had wrought first. I pulled one of my knives and laid open both wrists lengthwise to the bone, letting the Blood and my Power flow into the new wood. With my vision tunneling I healed the wounds before I bled out and then sang the prime to the beam which responded with a flush of joy. Good, very…._

_I had been told several times to never waken a lledrith before you were finished and I never, ever will again. Peregrine argued with me through every bloody step of the rest of his creation. I had NOT meant to include my vanity and pride but apparently they snuck through. And the fact that I passed out seconds after waking him have had him convinced ever since that I need to be mother henned and saved from myself. _

"I can't image where he would have gotten such a strange notion" Commodore Norrington offered dryly while rolling his eyes. Jack grinned though I wasn't certain if it was at Norrington's comment or Mallory's offended dignity that positively ROLLED off the page it was so thick. Mallory did need a mother hen, for that matter so did Jack, just please God don't let me end up with the job. I wouldn't survive the first hour. I skimmed a bit further ahead passing over a number of 'will not'/'yes you will' arguments between Peregrine and Mallory as he got everything else ready for his departure.

_My last night ashore, my last night in England, with whom should I spend it Henry or Jane? No contest, Henry. Jane might have steadfastly refused to come with me in flesh but would in spirit Henry I might never see again. I took to the air_

Elizabeth nudged me a little and flicked a glance to the Commodore. I'm certain he would be mortified if he knew rapture was absolutely painted across his face.

_I landed neatly and discretely in the rose arbor brushing my fingers over the Rose Rock. I sent a pulse of gratitude to it as I always did each time I visited Henry but didn't wait to hear its reply. _

"_So" Henry said from the arbor entrance "Your ship is finished."_

_I could lie to other **Ellyllon **but Henry could read me like a book before I even opened my mouth. When I first told him of my plan I had been dreading a repeat of the scene with Jane but Henry had just said "Good" and asked me to pass the salt. I didn't understand the man but he seemed to have me well and truly pegged. _

"_Meg will be sending the servants to look for me soon" he continued "come on before supper gets cold."_

"_I don't know if I'll ever be back" I said softly to his back._

_He turned to face me and his eyes could break a harder heart than mine. "I will miss you more than I would my arms but I hope that you're right."_

_I held the Shadow absolutely motionless and he STILL picked up on my confusion. How the blazes did he do it? _

"_The court is no good for you, Rhys, but like a drunkard with a bottle you just can't stay away." I wanted to be angry with him but he had a valid point, the court was like a siren song that drew me in no matter where I was. I certainly didn't agree with Henry that it was a problem but Sea had been calling me for years wearing down my resistance like a wave smoothing a rock. "Sometimes" he had to draw a deep breath to continue and his voice was ragged "sometimes friendship is about letting go."_

"_I swear I'll write" I should have gone and argued some more with Jane. She would have made me angry. Henry was making me homesick and I hadn't even left yet. "I've been working on a way to make certain that my missives are discretely and diligently delivered."_

_He gave me a smile that was half-hope and half way to tears "Then I'll look forward to them." He gave himself a shake "Come on, you know Meg hates it when we're late."_

_I sighed. I had picked her out, introduced them, and all but coerced Henry into marrying her, she was **perfect** for him. She was sweet, kind, compassionate, a wonderful mother, a devoted wife, and a more than competent manager of the household. She absolutely doted on me, she also bored me to bloody tears. _

"_I'm not expected" I protested. To my surprise Henry laughed "I expect you when I see you Rhys, your place is always set at the head of my table."_

"The Prince's Place" the Commodore breathed "the setting at the head of the table is always left empty for the Prince in case he should choose to come. I always thought 'the Prince' was Christ but it was left for Mallory."

I could almost feel sorry for the Commodore because clearly the Norrington family was very faithful to a lot of hidebound traditions they had no clue of the origins of.

I skipped over dinner since Meg monopolized Mallory who flirted shamelessly with her all the while wanting to strangle her in the nicest possible way. Henry apparently found the entire thing endlessly entertaining much to Mallory's annoyance.

_I breathed a sigh of relief when Meg finally left to put young Rhys and little Mary to bed. _

_Henry snickered "You know you do it to yourself. If you were less charming and made your Shadow just a touch less winsome you wouldn't have to beat the ladies off with a cudgel."_

_I tossed my head and glared at him which set him off in gales. _

"_Shouldn't you be jealous or something?" I snapped when he started to wind back down. _

"_Meg adores your silver tongued flattery but she loves me" he said simply "I have no need to fear. You chose well, my dearest friend. I am well and free, now it's your turn. Go to your ship and your sea and don't look back. I will diligently pray for clear blue skies on your deep blue sea."_

_I still wasn't and likely never would be comfortable with Henry's tendency to embrace me but this time I was the one to initiate it. It seemed only fair and with that I said farewell to England and landed softly on Peregrine's dark deck just as the tide lifted him for the first time away from the beach on which he had been born. _

_I crowed into the dawn as I set my hair free of its braid to fly in the Wind with my fingers wrapped around Peregrine's wheel and Sea crashing against the bow. Peregrine took my joy and echoed it back tenfold while Wind sang in the sails and played in the rigging and Sea danced to the tune on the deck as She cradled the hull propelling us to coasts unknown by any European be they Ellyllon or dynol. _

Mallory in the carchar stopped to savor the moment breathing it deep into himself reveling in the memory even as his flesh remained trapped in his dark prison and I couldn't help but linger either. Such boundless joy and endless enthusiasm couldn't help but ensnare and this Mallory was so different from either of the ones I had met. 'Noman' had had a shadow of this, but only a faint ghost, and the one who had come to heal me was this boy's antithesis.

Jack sat up at attention and put his palms together. "Now there's a side o me brother I wish I'd seen a bit more o' or at all fer that matter."

At the word wish falling from Jack's lips I felt myself tense but there was only the faintest flicker of something that was probably my imagination anyway. Mallory had said that Jack's gift was a wild card, sometimes doing nothing and sometimes rearranging the universe for him and that even it was still bound to what magic could actually do. Maybe there was no bringing that Mallory back. If that was true then it was beyond tragic. The next pages were so packed with information that they made my ears ring, eyes water, and head swim. It was as if Mallory had been trying to learn everything, all at once, like a dry sponge soaking in water. Many of the books on Peregrine's shelves were written himself as he sent the Winds out to bring him knowledge from every corner of the world. He taught Peregrine to direct the breezes to write because two hands simply hadn't been enough to record all he wanted to set down. He had loved it and so had Jane both of them scholars to the core and enraptured with learning for learning's sake. I could taste Mallory in the carchar's **longing** to be back there, his conviction that those had been the happiest days of his life. Free from any care but seeing and experiencing all the world had to offer, of learning all the tongues of men and dolphins, of seeing every bit of every coast, every secret cove, of visiting as many centers of learning as he could reach within a day's flight of the sea, of sitting at the feet of wise men and women in every nook and cranny of the globe.

"Now, that's a Mallory I know only too bloody well" Jack interrupted as he flinched the journal to break my link. I took a deep breath still awhirl with it all and Jack passed the book back "Please, whelp, skip ahead, far, far ahead."

I nodded taking the journal back and dutifully skimming only to have Jack stop me "What the bleeding hell was that?"

"Was what?" I asked.

"How could ye bloody miss it?" Jack fluttered his hands in exasperation "Ye just come hard about and I'll let you know when te drop anchor."

I frowned at him but didn't comment as I did a slightly slower skim, watching sunrises and flying fish, swimming with dolphins, flying with albatrosses, reveling in learning things about the Sea no one had **ever** known before.

"There" Jack barked "What caused that?"

My first notion was to snap that Mallory was obviously drunk. Except that drunk certainly wouldn't confuse Captain Jack Sparrow since his love of rum was even more legendary than the sacking of Nassau port and while my own experience with intoxication was limited Jack was right Mallory wasn't drunk. He was definitely not himself but he wasn't drunk either. Normally Mallory reminded me of my very finest swords. They had a certain…tension in the metal partially created by the rigorous folding of the steel and partially innate since I always looked for a certain 'thrum' before I even tried forging a sword out of it. If Mallory had been an instrument I'd have said he was wound three turns too tight. He positively quivered even at rest (which he never really seemed to be at anyway) with leashed power, but not in this passage. I could feel the ecstasy and the complete disassociation from everything else even skimming and how I'd missed it the first time I'll never know.

"Go up te just afore it commences and read down" Captain Sparrow ordered.

_Topiltzin repeated the phrase, of which I was comprehending about every third word. I had sent Wind ahead to scout the land and to find healers worthy of my interest and to bring me words in their tongues so that by the time I arrived myself I was at least able to stumble through what they were saying. It had worked beautifully, until today. It had been years since I'd been this much of a fumbling **idiot** in any language no matter how odd. All languages came down to certain basic structures so why was this one slipping through my fingers so badly? If I hadn't heard such impressive things about this old dynol I would have flown back to the coast and moved on in my quest. But this was a man with NO magic of any kind that I could sense who according to rumor did things that even I hadn't found a way to do magically. I (very quietly) cursed Jane for ever putting this mad notion in my head. Yes, a complete compendium of all dynol medical knowledge (REAL knowledge not the mad foolish things that I KNEW didn't work) was a noble goal to be sure and given my skill with languages, my intention of completing the second ever circumnavigation of the world, and my own healing abilities I was really the ONLY person who could do it. She was probably just tired of my rants about some of the horrible treatments European physicians insisted on inflicting on their patients that were actively harmful and was trying to distract me but now that the notion had taken hold I was quite keen to try to do something to rectify the situation. Of course I wouldn't be able to stop with just the compendium. THAT was only the beginning, I could revolutionize European medicine with the compendium as my text book and a carefully selected group of students… I forced my wandering attention back to the old man. Those dreams were all well and good but in order to **do** it I had to find **real** things that **any **dynol with the proper training could do and this man was a key piece if the rumors were true. I had proven myself worthy of his wisdom by healing a broken bone instantly (a feat which had clearly impressed him) but in spite of several hours of earnest effort on both our parts we were no closer to understanding each other than when I arrived. Damn, damn, damn. I rubbed the back of my neck discretely and straightened a bit. Poor posture was sloppy and sloppy gets you killed._

_(Rhys! Language!)) Jane scolded through our link. _

_(Can you make heads or tails of it?) I snapped back utterly frustrated. _

_(No) she allowed (Give it a little time.)_

_I glanced at the old man taking in the withered flesh and fraying enaid (I might have the time but I doubt he does). He was too bloody important to lose when I was this close._

_(Mother's looking for me) I squashed the 'I told you so, why didn't you just come with me' feeling and instead sent her a pulse of love and courage as her attention shifted fully back to England and I went back to beating my head against this bizarre Cocolanica? language._

_We were interrupted by one of his fellow Cocolans bringing in a tray for us to share. Hmmm, I didn't recognize a single thing on it but it would be rude not to eat and I was hungry. Keeping in mind Argellion's clucking about being careful since just because the dynol could eat something didn't necessarily mean we could I gingerly took a nibble of one of the flat bread like things and checked. No problems there but then I didn't think that there would be. Topiltzin was piling a variety of stuff onto his bread and rolling it up. Well when in Rome, I took a nibble of the little round things and piled a few on my bread when they also proved harmless. I then picked up a skinny little red object, nipped the end and …fire!! Eyes watering and lips burned off my face I fumbled for the cup of frothy brown liquid._

Jack was out and out laughing at his brother's first encounter with a chili pepper but then I was grinning myself and so was everyone else. Mallory was usually so in control that that sudden blaze of surprised panic was more than a little amusing. After waiting for Jack to quit snickering I went back to reading.

_I gulped hoping to extinguish the flames that had nothing to do with fire but instead it sent a wash of gentle warmth through me. I set the cup back on the tray and blinked lazily up at the old man who had dropped his own food and was staring. Oh, I'd let my Shadow slip, how silly of me. Ah, well no matter. He reached across the tray to touch one of my ears and I giggled as his fingers tickled the sensitive skin. He said something that I didn't understand. No problem, I would puzzle it out eventually what was a day, a week, a century more or less? He brought the lamp closer to my eyes and I plucked the flame away and started weaving it into a variety of shapes._

"_Huitzlopochtli!" Topiltzin started yelling "Huitzlopochtli!!" which brought an entire troupe into our little room which had really gotten too small for the crowd so I politely asked the stones to move a bit. So nice of them to listen the first time not that it would have been a problem if they hadn't. After all the whole village didn't need to be in here with us. I was supposed to be doing something but whatever it was didn't seem to be terribly pressing and it was really very nice here. I drew a smiling face with the little round things and then made pointy ears with the little red spicy things. I wonder what they're called? _

_Topiltzin was trying to get my attention, gesturing for me to follow as all the others started racing around like ants in a disturbed nest. I'd taken a bath already this morning but there was no such thing as being too clean so I drifted into the warm water they had so nicely drawn. They wanted me to come out entirely too soon but that was alright because they had brought such pretty feathers for me. Several very shy girls painted me with some very nice designs before the young men draped the feather cape and headdress around my shoulders. Oh, apparently they were making me their chief since a god was trapped inside me. How sweet of them._

I paused and looked at Jack who had gone quite pale "Keep going Mr. Turner."

_I did wish that they would quit fussing though the feathers were so pretty and I wanted to get to look at them properly. Oh and what a quaint little throne. I draped myself across it throwing one leg over an arm and slouching into the feather edged cushions. They really did like feathers. Such pretty sparkly feathers. Something was creeping up (or would that be down since it was the one over the arm of my 'throne'?) leg. A black and orange banded spider. What was that song Meg used to sing to my godson? Ah yes, the Itsy Bitsy spider. Maybe this spider would like to know the song. I cleared my throat and shifted a little so I could sing properly._

"_The itsy bitsy spider went up the fountain spout"_

_I pulled water out of the air forming a little cloud_

"_DOWN came the rain" I loosed my little cloud burst "and washed the spider out"_

_Ahh, the poorsy worsy spider didn't like that but it would be well because I made a little ball of fire just the same color as the sun._

"_Out came the sun and dried up all the rain"_

_(Rhys? Rhys are you alright?)_

_(Jane) I complained (you're interrupting my song)_

_(Rhys what did they **do** to you?)_

_(I'm fine) I sent back (better than fine. Better than ever before.) _

_(Rhys I think you should leave and get back to Peregrine)_

_(Comfortable here) I sent back. (and you interrupted my song) I picked up the spider (I was teaching her the Itsy Bitsy spider song) _

_(Sweet Jesus save us, Rhys, that thing is huge! I thought you hated spiders)_

_Jane was right this wasn't an Itsy Bitsy spider, I should sing the song again except this time it should be the Bigsy Wigsy spider. I pulled one of the feathers loose and started making a wigsy for the bigsy spider._

_(Rhys?!) she was about to get strident I could feel it building. She should feel like I did, since there was nothing really wrong. How could anything ever be wrong when everything was this perfect? I should share, I drew her up close, she fought a little but I was stronger. I was always stronger but she was more stubborn. She sighed a little and she stopped struggling so nice to have her drifting with me. So nice here with the sun soaking into my face and chest. I tilted my hand and let the bigsy wigsy spider wander off before letting my head drop back so I could watch the clouds. Pretty clouds I used Wind to make them into shapes. Jane suggested a few as she cleaved even closer to me with an utterly contented sigh. _

_(What was that?) she asked dreamily._

_Whatever it was zipped by again making a very distinct buzzing sound. _

_(Don't know) My cat cloud didn't look quite right but my dolphin one was exquisite._

_(Find out) she said nudging me._

_I pulled her in just a little more and she relaxed again sinking back down into the euphoria neither of us had the will to resist. Why should we? The buzzy thing went by again and this time I got up to follow it. After all it wasn't often that something went so fast that even **I** had trouble seeing it. It stopped and hovered just like I could in front of a flower. It was an insy weensy birdy. Sparkly birdy. I twittered to it and it buzzed over hovering in front of my face and staring at me down its long beak before zipping off to another flower. Pretty birdy. _

_(Rhys) Jane sounded more like herself I reached out to her but she flitted back and I couldn't seem to pursue both her and my little flying jewel. (You need to stop them)_

_(Stop who?) My pretty sparkly!! emerald and sapphire quarry had gone around one of the stones to the flowers on the other side._

_(Your tribe) she shot back in a scathing tone that jangled against me._

_(Why?) Two sparklies!! Ooh…why were my sparklies fighting? That wasn't very nice._

_(Pay attention Rhys! They're going to kill him!) I glanced back around to see one of the young men who had given me my pretty cape stretched out on a stone slab. I didn't like the slab, it whispered and wailed and there were ysbyrd all around it. I turned looking to see where my sparklies had flown off to. This time it was Jane who set her heels and yanked HARD taking me totally off guard. I always was the one to pull her in. The cold chill of an English winter embraced me as I saw through her eyes and it was like a bucket of ice water. Abruptly my head was utterly clear and I was utterly aghast. I was wandering around buck naked except for a shabby feather cape without even a Shadow to cover me. It was NOT to be bourn! The Draig flared and Jane shoved me back. I stumbled in the Mexican heat as euphoria washed back over me. _

_(Rhys – THE BOY!) oh, yes, I should save him. I snapped orders that the natives completely ignored and the Draig newly awaked hissed. I darkened the sun and made the earth tremble. I might not be fluent but I made my displeasure about human sacrifice clearly known. As my cowed compatriots worshiped the Draig slipped away and I went to find my sparklies. Here birdie, birdie, birdie._

With difficulty I tore my eyes from the page and closed the journal. Elizabeth seemed to snap out of it first but it didn't take long for the others.

Jack gave me a golden grin "Why did ye stop there, Whelp?"

Elizabeth started giggling "The bigsy wigsy spider?"

Commodore Norrington had a pensive expression "That looked like plain hot chocolate. Captain Sparrow, did Mallory happen to mention anything else we might want to avoid? If he is as melancholy as he appears he might attempt to do himself serious harm. What better way to slip past us than to use something that is innocuous to the rest of us?"

Jack's grin faded as he considered the Commodore's argument "Don't think he'll go that route, mate. If he was going to off himself directly there isn't a bleeding thing any o' us could do te stop him. Pearl and Sea might have a shot at interfering though. His Royal Highness never directly mentioned anything but I recall that he was rather upset over me eating rambutans and watched me like a bloody hawk afterward." Jack shrugged "Not many rambutans in the Caribbean so I aver it won't much o' an issue." Jack put his palms together "It might, on the other hand, not be a bad idea to lay in a small store o' chocolate at the next possible port."

Commodore Norrington looked positively scandalized "How dare you even briefly entertain the thought of drugging your poor brother in his hour of weakness?" He growled, eyes narrowed and fingers dropping to brush the hilt of his sword.

"I think, Commodore, that sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures and unlike the Royal Navy I'm capable o keeping an open mind."

I cleared my throat and raised the journal.

"By all means continue" the Commodore snapped still glaring at Jack.

Mallory was going to have a very hard time living down what I had already read and given his temper I didn't think I should add any more fuel to the fire so I skimmed ahead until I noticed the 'thrum' again though it was muted.

_I let the mica bits trickle through my fingers as I considered the motley collection of 'sparkly' rubbish littering my desk._

_(Please don't start with the sparkly thing again) Peregrine and Jane said simultaneously. I giggled sending both of them into a bit of a panic. _

_I toyed with the idea of continuing the charade but opted to be merciful, to all involved, including the Cocolans. I shivered as I thought back over the last three months. The Cocolans, in spite of a propensity to human sacrifice, were basically decent and humble people. I shivered the thought of what could have happened if I had drunk 'the Divine Liquor' in the court didn't even bear considering. I had gotten off very lightly indeed. Yes, I had made an utter fool of myself, yes, the Cocolans had had me do a few harmless tricks to frighten away their enemies but ultimately no one had been hurt. It could have been very, very different as I had been ridiculously eager to please most of that time. I was hardly happy with Topiltzin though. Yes, he had given me all of the knowledge I had asked for but he had also kept me in a drug induced haze for over three months. Hell, he had even sent me back to the Peregrine with my own personal, extremely high quality, supply of the stuff and instructions for daily use to 'take the edge off my personality'. I snarled at the box, as if. Presumptuous git. _

_In the interest of reassuring both Peregrine and Jane that I was no longer 'drunk' on chocolate I made a point of pitching all of the little 'sparkly' bits I'd collected while under Topiltzin's 'care' out the larboard window. I picked up the box surprised at the weight, chocolate was not cheap even here where it was grown. _

_(Don't you dare) Peregrine grumbled while Jane absolutely shrieked (RHYS!!) _

_(Peace, I have every intention of keeping a clear head for some time.)_

_That didn't seem to reassure either of them much. I had planned on sending the thing into the Sea along with my magpie collection of shiny garbage but at some point this was going to make it to England and from England to Avalon. I was a Prince of Avalon I had a duty to see to it that my people were knowledgably informed of the full potential benefits and hazards of this new discovery. I set it in one of the cupboards that locked though with no intention of touching it until I had carefully considered proper safeguards for its use._

Jack's laugh distracted me while my father grumbled, "Now there's a proper courtier, make pleasure a duty."

Jack shot the Commodore a glance "The Royal Navy could stand te learn that lesson."

Norrington did not bother to riposte.

I skimmed quickly ahead, knowing that the night was rapidly passing and we hadn't covered much of the journal at all. I passed over all manner of fascinating places wishing that I had time to really pour over the material properly until I reached a memory that positively leapt off the page.

_I hung onto Skree-ll's dorsal fin as he dove deep and then came zipping up to the surface. Several other members of the pod jockeyed for position inviting me to ride them instead trying to show their gratitude for finding them the large school of fish. The fish stocks were poor all across the Indian Ocean this year and the dolphins had been hungry. They had eaten well and in typical dolphin fashion wished to celebrate. The only problem being that I simply couldn't seem to get into the proper mood. My mind was positively fixated on a particularly thorny problem of Hindu medicine. **Something** in the procedure was working but the rest wasn't, usually all I had to do was see something preformed I could easily separate the real medicine from all the hocus pocus superstition but this one was a puzzler. I'd been hoping to both help the dolphins and distract myself before it drove me mad. Sometimes I had to concede that Topiltzin had a point, I could worry a thing to death and it did absolutely no good for my disposition. I clicked a request to go back to the ship and the entire pod squeed their disappointment. I chulllnged my intention to be right back and good spirits restored we were back to the Peregrine in a flash._

_(You can't be serious Rhys)_

_Womanly intuition was a damn annoying thing. Jane had an absolutely magical sixth sense for knowing the rare occasions when I decided to indulge in a touch of chocolate and for being ready and waiting to try and talk me out of it. _

_(Why not? There isn't another ship or a scrap of inhabited land for a day's sail in any direction, the dolphins aren't going to ask me for anything dangerous, and Sea won't let me come to harm.)_

_(Do you want to end up like those people in Manji?)_

_I swallowed, the dragon chasers, hopelessly addicted to opium. One look and I hadn't even thought about touching chocolate for over six months just to be certain I wasn't already in such dire straights and I allowed myself to indulge no more than once a month and regularly skipped several at a time just to be safe. _

_(I won't) I swore._

_(I'm certain they thought the same) she riposted (And for God's sake put some clothes on)_

_(Why?) I had discovered that I just could not be comfortable in comfortable cloths. If I was going to be dressed it had to be with all the pomp and circumstance of my station so instead of swaddling myself in silk, worsted wool, and velvet when out to Sea alone I just stripped._

_(It's a sin to be naked)_

_(No, it's a sin to look upon another's nakedness and there's no one out here to see me) I carefully and precisely measured out the slightest bit of chocolate and then dissolved it in a full glass of water. I only intended to take the edge off not render myself the babbling idiot Topiltzin had made me._

Jack actually yanked the journal out of my hands. "Ye have te have read that wrong, whelp. There's no way under the sky or on the Sea that me brother dabbled in drugs whilst wandering about as naked as the day he was born."

"I know how to read Jack" I snapped back "Your brother was the one who taught me."

Jack frowned "He must have had a touch of sun stroke, dehydration, fever. The Mallory that raised me wouldn't have been caught..." He glanced at my father "It was a long time ago" he allowed and handed me back the journal while muttering under his breath.

_I took a sip of the extremely dilute mix while ignoring Jane's grumbling, gauged its effects before gingerly taking another. There, a pleasant softening of the world but no more. I poured the rest out lest I be tempted to go further than I aught and ordered Peregrine to lock the cabinet. He couldn't actually keep me out if I wanted in but arguing with him would hopefully be enough to keep me from over indulging. Jane was ignoring me in disgust. I shrugged and went swimming with the dolphins._

_(**RHYS!!!)** Jane's panicked shriek brought me bolt upright out of the water. After some serious play the entire pod was 'cat napping' and I'd been lazing on my back cradled in the warm Sea with the sun on my face. I cleared the chocolate from my body instantly clearing my mind (learning THAT little trick had taken a great deal of work and experimentation but I reasoned that it would be useful for more than just my chocolate habit.) (THEY ARE MARRYING ME TO GUILDFORD AND PLAN TO MAKE ME QUEEN!)_

_**(WHAT?!)** I sent back and got a whirlwind of panicked images mostly focused on the fact that Ned was dieing and Dudley in a bid to hold the throne was forcing Jane to marry his youngest son, that stupid clod of a momma's boy Guildford. _

_**(HELP ME!!)**_

_I was out of the water and in the air on my way back to Peregrine without even thinking about it but as my feet settled on his black boards I remember the seer's words _

'_Do yourself a favor Tywysogion a Avalon – build your ship, sever your link to the English girl, remain at Sea until your father breaths his last and you will lead a life of peace. Cling to your friends and you will have nothing but hardship, pain, and death.'_

_These four years away from the court had been the best thing I had ever done for myself because Henry was absolutely right, the court was no good for me. Knowing that he had let me go. He replied to my letters but every one of them encouraged me to stay away from Europe. Argellion and even Mannwan to a lesser extent had been troubled by what they were making of me, I had been forged by Skeffington & Cromwell into a dagger, Argellion & Mannwan had honed me to a keen edge, but here with no one's will but my own to finish working me I had begun to turn the blade into a scalpel. Damn you, Ned, couldn't you have held on just a little longer? _

_It was too soon, another five years and I would have completed my transformation into something else but if I went now to save Jane it wouldn't be week before I was the dagger again, back to slinking in the Shadows working the diplomacy of the knife. The Draig in me was stronger in Europe, in its homelands, I wasn't strong enough, yet, changed enough yet to ignore it on its home Earth. I walked slowly down to my library running my hand over the last volume of my compendium. I had already decided that Asia was actually a better place to begin my great medical revolution than Europe. I had just been trying to decide where to found my school, who to invite to be my first students. If I went to Jane I **KNEW** in my Blood this dream would die forever, I would never be this free of the Draig again._

_(Rhys?) Jane asked softly having no idea that I was considering abandoning her but her fear broke my heart. I flipped the nearly finished book shut and set it on the shelf. _

_(I am coming as swiftly as I can) I sent calling to Wind and Sea to propel Peregrine with all possible speed toward the Red Sea knowing that in the end hardship, pain, and death were waiting for me but I had given my word and she was mine besides I enjoyed a good challenge. _

Sorry to leave you on such an evil cliffy but my flight is first thing tomorrow morning and I wanted to get SOMETHING posted before I went out to sea for several weeks. **_Please_** review but forgive me that I won't be able to reply until 3-20-07 at the earliest since I will be 40+ miles off shore with no access to a computer, phone, or electric.

24


	28. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Author's Notes: I survived Belize. Beautiful reef, lovely weather, only saw a couple of nurse sharks, the biggest danger of the trip was actually the coconuts, apparently this was a very good year for them and all the quite tall palms were loaded. This has gotten so long for ease of reading (and posting) I am splitting chapter 16 into 3 rather than 2 parts.

Blood of Avalon: Chapter 16: Comes a Dragon Part B – Something Wicked This Way Comes.

_I was sorely tempted to take to the air since I could fly far faster than even Peregrine could sail but it had to be well over 7,000 miles as the albatross flies from my current position to London. I would end up crashing into the Sea, my strength exhausted at only a tenth of the distance. I could easily sail Peregrine the first 5,000 miles or so from here to the furthest navigable tip of the Red Sea in Egypt. I unrolled my Great Chart on which I had painstakingly charted the entire globe to the best of the knowledge I could glean from Earth, Wind, and Sea. More than 7,000 miles closer 7,600 to London of which I could cover about 5,200 on the Peregrine. I swallowed that was a long flight, longer than any I had ever attempted before. If I could maintain this pace then I would be close to Cairo in just under five days._

"That's not possible" Commodore Norrington barked. I was no sailor myself but looking at the chart he was trying to cover an even greater distance that we had covered on the crossing from England and it had certainly taken us more than 5 days.

"Improbable" Jack answered absently.

"And could the Pearl, the _fastest_ ship in the Caribbean match that pace?" the Commodore sneered. James was being rather testy but to be fair it wasn't every day he had a ship sunk from under him and lost most of his crew only to be rescued by an Ellyllon he had thought long dead who informed him that the colony under his protection had been invaded followed by a sleepless night worrying about said Ellyllon (and he had undoubtedly had a very bad moment when the Governor was discovered missing). No, it certainly had no been one of the Commodore's better days. And his worse days always seemed to involve Jack so I suppose it wasn't surprising that he was getting a touch short. "Or do you not have the fastest ship in the Caribbean, Captain Sparrow?"

"Technically Peregrine isn't a ship mate, and me brother cheats" Jack waved to me "but the entire discourse is superfluous, the point is te discover what we can o' me brothers history not debate the relative merits o' a race built pleasure yacht and a galleon. But for yer edification, Pearl has made the same passage, without cheating, in twelve days and a watch. I'll wager that that wash tub o' yers that is currently resting in Davy Jones' Locker would have been hard pressed te make it in 40."

Commodore Norrington seemed to wrap his dignity around himself before nodding stiffly at me to continue.

_I traced the map trying to figure out what route I should take through Europe. I was woefully out of touch and I had never been familiar with the eastern Mediterranean to begin with. Over 2,000 miles to fly, four stops at least one of them for a full day and that was just to arrive on my feet. If I needed to be able to DO something at the end then I would have to add at least one more. I needed more information, badly. I dispatched every breeze I could muster that wasn't already filling Peregrine's sails to Europe with all haste before calling up a fire which I extinguished. I couldn't expect to learn much since no one lit fires for heat in July instead I called the most faithful breeze I had ever encountered from its place in the t'gallents and requested that it proceed with all possible haste to my estates, demand a full evaluation of the situation from Lluniwer, and report back to me. With all that I could do set in motion I threw myself into Jane in hopes of learning a bit more._

_It was so strange being Jane, usually I let her see through my eyes since I was uncomfortable seeing through hers. The world Jane lived in was so cold, silent, and colorless. It wasn't just that she was in a colder clime, I had stood naked on southern polar ice and never (much to Jane's disgust) felt the slightest chill. In all honesty the only time I ever recalled being cold was the night I died fighting the mardeth. I seemed to have a limitless inferno within me and being without it when I was with Jane made even the warmest July day frigid. I suspected that Jane was secretly glad that none of my magic seemed to transfer to her. I shivered; it was so bloody **quiet** with Jane I felt like I'd gone blind and deaf. Oh, I could actually see a little better (during the day anyway, Jane's night vision was truly pathetic) and I could hear the birds twittering quite clearly but Wind told Jane nothing, Earth was utterly silent, and there was no whisper of the Sea. _

_No sooner had I adjusted, well, as much as I ever did, to Jane's cheerless world, then Frances descended upon us whip in hand. Jane was defiant, I was worried. There was a crazed look in Frances eyes that reminded me far too much of Skeffington. _

_(Be careful) I cautioned Jane._

_(I will not yield, Rhys. I will not marry him. I do not want to marry anyone.)_

_(I know, Jane, but you may not have a choice. And there is such a thing as a strategic retreat. Just tell her what she wants to hear) I urged._

_(Give my word and then betray it?) she spat indignantly (**You** might see nothing amiss with lying and betrayal but **I** am a faithful Christian, my word is my bond. I will recant NOTHING. Take the pain so that I might defy her unto death) she implored. We had discovered through our link that pain shared truly was pain halved and more than once I had shouldered the brunt of her mother's temper from thousands of miles away. _

_(No, not this time) I said firmly. On this I would no more be moved than she._

_Her anger rolled over me like a breaking sea. (So, even you will abandon me in my hour of need.)_

_(**NO!**) I retorted just as angry (But neither will I help you to commit suicide. She means to kill you if you will not yield and set Kate in your stead. She loves her better anyway and your sister will be quite obedient with your corpse as an example of the price of defiance. Don't give her the satisfaction of killing you) I begged. _

_(**You** would be defiant unto death) she riposted._

_(Only for the right reasons) I returned (and we have both known all our lives that one day arranged marriages would be awaiting us. I hope that I have better grace than thee when my time comes to face my own.) I snipped._

_Frances cracked the carriage whip, to her annoyance Jane didn't flinch. "Strip her" she barked to Jane's poor maids who were wringing their hands. Like most of Bradgate they lived in terror of Frances and her legendary rages. Everyone (and most especially Frances) would have been much happier if Frances had been born a boy. Rabidly ambitious she found herself thwarted at every turn by her sex until she became a twisted and hideous caricature of a human. Stymied for herself she had planned to live vicariously through a son, except, like most males of Tudor blood, all of her sons had died leaving her three daughters, two of whom she loathed. Mary, she at least pitied for her deformity, Jane she despised on a good day. This wasn't a good day._

_(I almost wish to live long enough to see your own wedding day so that I might remind thee of thy fine words) she scoffed back just before the first stroke fell followed rapidly by a second and third. It was odd. Being battered myself only made me vengeful and angry feeling it happen to Jane made me frantic and nauseous. She just gritted her teeth and weathered the blows her mother laid across her bare back._

_(Aren't you supposed to honor you father and your mother?) I asked. I could feel Jane's glare as the blows continued to fall._

_(Did God **command** you **not** to marry Guildford Dudley?) I pressed on as Frances ravaged Jane's back (No, He **didn't**. He commanded you to **obey** your parents so long as doing so was not contrary to His word. Your defiance is not the act of a dutiful Christian.)_

_Three more strokes fell while Jane hated me more than her mother._

"_Very well, I will marry him."_

_Francis paid no heed to Jane's surrender but Henry Grey for perhaps the first time in his marriage actually defied his overbearing harpy of a wife and caught her hand before she could apply the lash again. The shock left Frances gaping at him._

"_Enough" the Duke of Suffolk snapped "You have won, she has yielded. You will **not **strike her again."_

_Fortunately Jane turned away before she smirked. Personally I thought it was long past time the Duke remembered that he was the one wearing the hose in the family. As an apology I shouldered the bulk of the pain leaving Jane just enough to remember not to overexert her wounded back._

_(You could have done worse that Guildford) I reminded her._

_(He's stupid and ugly) she sulked._

_Stupid couldn't be argued with. He was, on the other hand, a good bit better looking than Jane herself though his elder brother, Eyes, (aka Robert) was the best looking of John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland's large brood. I retreated a bit from Jane and to distract myself from the discomfort lit a fire. I was getting soft, in my days with Skeffington I would have laughed at Frances' lash. Since the hearths would be cold I would have to find the right candle flames, no easy task and I was already deeply tapped maintaining Peregrine's breakneck speed across the waves._

_As expected I found Gwyn in the kitchens of my estate first but the annoying wench wasn't paying the slightest attention to the fire as she concentrated on rolling out pie crusts. I cursed under my breath before gathering myself to 'flare' the fire. While commanding Wind and Sea whist sharing with Jane were all things I did nearly as easily and naturally as breathing I was beginning to feel the strain more than I liked (not only was I getting soft I was no longer used to pushing myself either) and 'flaring' was never completely safe. From this distance I was likely to burn my best bloody manor house down and since I was returning to England I might actually need the damn thing. If only the dratted girl would look up. What was the point of having gifted Old Blood servants if they didn't use their talents when you wanted them to?_

_In frustration I finally sent the flare through my own candle. I hadn't actually **meant** to set her skirts aflame but it certainly got her attention. Besides she was a good enough tanio gwehydd to keep from being burned. _

_She gave me an absolutely flabbergasted look before scampering off, one sincerely hoped in search of Lluniwer. Honestly it wasn't as if this was the first time I had contacted her since I left. Hmm, had it really been over two years since the last time I had sent any word to Lluniwer? _

_When my steward finally appeared with Gwyn in tow I gave the Shadow I had built a critical once over and could see no signs of decay. He gave me the proper bow of an Udd to a Prince of the Blood. I hadn't been certain, and still wasn't, if it was wise but I had revealed my true nature to Lluniwer just ere I left. I had healed his right hand, which had been perhaps the single most complicated bit of magic I had ever attempted but it had come off perfectly and the look of dumbstruck awe on his face had been worth all the late nights I had spent puzzling out just how to do it. When I had promised to review his case when I came to power in Avalon he had openly sobbed in gratitude. I had felt more than a twinge of guilt at the time since I had had every intention heeding the old woman's advice and bidding Europe adieu until it was time to take my throne. By all reports my father was fairly young, much younger than my mother and aunts at any rate and Lluniwer while not yet in his dotage had, at most, eighty years left in him. Then it had been an empty promise, now, well, we would see, after all I had been promised death so I might not be doing anyone any favors._

_Gwyn was a very sweet and quite competent scullery maid. She was also dumber than any sack of rocks I'd ever spoken to. I'd told Lluniwer to have her taught to read and write now I would see what she had learned. I quickly wrote: Ned dying, plots afoot, gather all available information, breeze sent to collect your report, should be back within a fortnight."_

_Gwyn looked at the letters like a monkey asked navigate a course before laboriously attempting to copy it out for Lluniwer. She was going to bite her tongue if she wasn't careful and she looked ridiculous with it hanging out of her mouth like that. Beaming in triumph she showed it to Lluniwer who clearly could not make heads or tails of what she had written._

_He sighed and mouthed "Just answer 'y' or 'n'."_

_It was a very good thing Cromwell had insisted I learn to read lips._

"_You have learned that King Edward is dying?"_

"_Y"_

"_You are aware that Northumberland is planning to put your Lady Jane on the throne as a puppet after wedding her to his youngest son?_

"_Y" I could feel my stomach sink. Lluniwer was clever and he had command of my collection of Old Blood with their diverse but weak talents but if he knew so did others and the plot Northumberland was trying to carry off needed discretion beyond all else._

"_I assume you are returning to England with all possible speed."_

"_Y!!"_

"_And that you have already sent a breeze that will be seeking a full report?"_

"_Y"_

"_But you want my feel for the situation, immediately?"_

"_Y!!"_

"_It is commonly rumored that the King is unwell but few know that he is swiftly failing. Lady Mary is among them and those loyal to her know of the plan to supplant her."_

_I cursed long and hard. John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland had been sloppy and Jane was going to be the one to pay the ultimate price. _

"_While there are a few nobles who will stand loyal to their chosen factions most are undecided but the commons nearly to a man will rally to Mary."_

_Lluniwer had just confirmed my own thoughts, so things had not changed much in the last four years, the countryside still clung to the Church of Rome despite all attempts by Edward and his Council to entrench Protestantism in England. I remembered the Pilgrimage of Grace very, very well even if Northumberland and his cronies didn't. By and large nobles roundly discounted 'the rabble' and most of the time the people would, indeed, grumble privately but accept the judgment of their betters. But they could never, **ever** be completely discounted because every so often a spark touched them off and when it did they could become an unstoppable force. The people followed every rumor about the royals rabidly and poor, downtrodden, abused Mary was their darling. Her kindness and compassion were legendary. The shabby treatment she had received at the hands of her father infamous. They would rise for her should she be denied her final hour of triumph. Only if she could be safely held in the, to the commons mind, impregnable Tower did this harebrained plot have any hope at all. And even then she would have to be swiftly put to death. Neither Northumberland nor Jane would have the intestinal fortitude to order Mary's death. _

_It wasn't bloody **fair**. I didn't **want** to kill Mary. I **liked** Mary. And I half agreed with the people. She deserved better than this. Born a pampered, petted princess (her parents had, of course, been disappointed about her sex but there was nothing to be done about that misfortune) she had been turned upon by her beloved father, declared a bastard, reviled, and abused. I knew quite well just how capable the Mouldwarp had been of petty cruelty and he had heaped them on innocent Mary's head. To preserve Jane's life I was going to have to kill kind, sweet Mary. There was no other way. If Mary lived it would only be a matter of time until Jane died. I flexed my fingers. I hadn't held a weapon, hadn't killed, hadn't even really considered killing, in years. I picked up a knife and flung it into the wall while ignoring Peregrine's protests. It **bounced**. I was so out of practice that, never mind hitting the target, I couldn't even **sink** a blade. I laughed bitterly. I had intentionally dulled myself and I had very little time to regain my edge. Except that I didn't particularly **want** to, and certainly not to kill a woman that I genuinely liked. Damn Ned for dieing, damn Jane for refusing to come with me and most particularly damn Northumberland for this fool's scheme._

_So what orders did I give Lluniwer? It was tempting to order him to move against Mary. Murder left a mark on the enaid and Lluniwer was a murderer. I had no idea under what circumstances he had committed murder before but I had little doubt for the right price he would do it again but some things one simply didn't entrust to the 'help' particularly when the order had to be garbled through a half-witted scullery maid. No, best to leave my estates which were rife with Old Blood that Catholics and Protestants alike would like nothing better than send to the stake well clear of this mess. Besides I didn't trust Lluniwer._

"_Watch and wait" I wrote hoping he would be able to puzzle that out of whatever Gwyn would write and turned to seeking Ned in earnest._

_It took quite a while but I finally found one of the candles in his chamber. I swallowed as I watched. I didn't like Ned, I had never liked Ned, would never like Ned. He was an obnoxious, self-sanctimonious, little prig but as I watched him hacking his life away bringing up great, clearly fetid from the reactions around him, gouts of black blood I felt a great wave of pity for him. I didn't like him but we had studied together and if I had been in the room I would have tried to save him but I was half a world away and so instead I watched him die, slowly and horrib…_

I had to stop reading. It was only when I had closed the journal that I realized that my hands were shaking. Mum had died the same way and watching it happen to the young boy King had brought every agonizing moment back as if it were yesterday. I fought to control my breathing. I was **NOT** going to cry like a wee lad in front of Jack, the Commodore, Mr. Not Cotton, the Governor, and my father about something that had happened half a lifetime ago. I was **NOT**.

A gentle but rough hand wrapped itself around my shoulder "I'm sorry, son, you have no idea how sorry that ye had te face it alone. I tried te find ye I swear I did." He pulled my in against his shoulder and there in the lea of his body where none of the others could see I let a few tears slip through.

When I thought I could trust my voice I straightened and said "I believe you, Da." I couldn't quite say that I wished that he had found me because I certainly never would have met Elizabeth. I might not have met Mallory or Jack either. I couldn't say that I was sorry about the way my life had unfolded without my father even as I looked forward to a life that included him. I cleared my throat and flipped the journal back open

_The King is Dead, long live the Queen. I whispered as Ned breathed his last. I snuffed the flame and ordering Wind and Sea to keep the pace (but knowing Wind would be distracted within an hour of me falling asleep) I went to catch what repose I could._

_(You look lovely) I whispered to Jane as I dreamed her day. While it had been completely logical that on a round world one side would be in sunshine while the other was in shadow once we had thought about it it had caught both of us by surprise as in the course of my journey our days and nights had grown apart. Of late we had both be come quite adapt at dreaming the other's waking life. And she did look as lovely as she ever would. Jane simply wasn't as fetching as I was. While I wouldn't be caught dead in a sack I could still make it look good. Jane, well even the best of cloths couldn't quite make Jane any more than plain but it did compliment her hair and eyes nicely and it was an exquisite dress. _

_(I don't want to marry him, Rhys.)_

_(Your King commands it) I didn't mention that Ned had died the previous day._

_(The Duke of Northumberland commands it) she shot back._

_(This wasn't his idea.) While a few breezes had gone astray, as was to be expected when dealing with air, vacuous fickle creatures all, enough had returned the previous day that I had as much knowledge of events as the best informed in London. I had no doubt that no matter how this turned out history would remember John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, as the man who tried to put his son on the throne. Truth was, he wasn't behind any of this, and wasn't happy about it either. Ned had ordered it and in spite of the fact that Ned was dead and Dudley was convinced he was committing suicide he was going to do his best to honor the wishes of his dead boy king. John Dudley was a far more honorable man than I would have ever given him credit for and I was honestly surprised. I had hoped that the plot would wither and die with Ned's death which was one of the reasons I had convinced Jane to yield. I had assumed there was a better than even chance the wedding would never happen. At the moment Jane was far more concerned about the vows than what would come after. She was mistakenly assuming that like many arranged marriages the vows would be exchanged today but the consummation would be delayed until both parties were more…comfortable with each other (which for my prudish Jane would be about the same time the inhabitants of hell took up ice skating). Frances and Lady Northumberland had very different plans. Guildford had been threatened with some damned uncomfortable consequences if he failed to perform tonight. I swallowed hard on my own misgivings; it wouldn't do to give the game away. _

_(Rhys?!) _

_(Steady) I sent encouragement and fortitude (Your King commands this) I sent again reminding her of duty while neglecting to mention that she was technically already Queen. The key word being technically. In time and with my help Jane might truly wield the power of a ruling Queen but not while her parents and Northumberland lived. I would have to 'fix' that but until then Jane would yield or suffer for it. Using Jane's eyes I scanned the crowd and noted the conspicuous absence of one of Guildford's brothers, where was Eyes?_

_I left enough of my attention with Jane to keep her settled and flicked my ears to the Winds reports seeking word of Robert Dudley, Bess's longstanding 'favorite'. She had been infatuated with him since we were eight, and much to my disgust and annoyance had included him in all our 'games' nearly to my own exclusion. It was with his coming that she had bestowed that most annoying of nicknames 'Ears' on me. So where was my 'rival'? I sniffed, as if, Eyes might be the consummate courtier, pretty, witty, and merry, a skilled dancer, passable jouster, capable rider, and a good enough singer not to embarrass himself but he was a bumbling idiot once out of the hot house of the court. I on the other hand was master of all (and prettier to boot). _

_Good God, Great Draigs, and all the little fishes in the Sea, his father had sent **HIM** to secure Mary?!! **HIM**??!! What was Northumberland **thinking!?** This fiasco's **ONLY** prayer of success was if Mary was securely contained in the Tower and Northumberland had entrusted the mission to an incompetent pretty-boy. If Mary reached the commons they would carry her like a tidal wave all the way to the throne long before I could arrive. _

_Damn, damn, damn, damn_

_(Rhys?) Jane had picked up on my distress. I shoved it back and concentrated on sending her nothing but staunch support as she fought not to choke on her vows to Guildford. She shuddered all the way to her core when Cranmer pronounced them man and wife. As much as she didn't wish to be married I doubt she would appreciate it if I swore to make her an orphaned widow at my earliest possible convenience. Jane didn't approve of my…casual attitude toward murder, it offended her Christian sensibilities. And she would probably want to keep her father, she was fond of the gutless worm for some reason I couldn't fathom. Fortunately for us both I didn't suffer (overmuch anyway Milady Latimer had impressed a few mores into me) from Christian sensibilities. _

_Throughout the brief feast that followed I kept up the same kind of soothing patter that worked such wonders on skittish horses as bit by bit I put my own plan for tonight into action subtly displacing Jane as her father equally discretely gave her ever more potent drinks. Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, pitied his eldest. Not enough to defend her from his wife or to put himself out in any way but as long as it required no particular effort on his part and was unlikely to cause him difficulties he was more than willing to give her small indulgences. He was clearly of the opinion that being a few sheets to the wind would make what was going to happen later to his prudish daughter a bit easier. I had my own somewhat more aggressive plans and I certainly didn't want to be sober for this either to I threw myself into distracting Jane from just how drunk she was becoming. _

_Just before midnight Frances and Lady Northumberland made their move flanked by Guildford whose comely (but disgustingly insipid) features where a mix of terror and anticipation. While he was clearly nervous he was just as clearly (a little too clearly for my comfort) eager to shed his virgin status. Personally I wished that his father had been a bit less of a dutiful Christian and had hired a whore to give his very randy son a few lessons. Tonight (or morning depending on how you viewed it) would probably be less than completely pleasurable even if both parties had been eager. Jane just blinked at them in confusion far too piffled to think. This was as good a moment as any and I deftly 'switched' us and shivered violently. While we were frequently 'in' each others bodies I had never been this truly in Jane's and never alone. I prayed, des-per-ate-ly, that I hadn't just truly and ir-rev-o-cably trapped myself in her flesh because I had ab-so-lutely **NO** desire to live the rest of my life as a dynol and cer-tain-ly not as a **girl**. I gathered my nerve since I was now far too drunk to gather my wits. In the end Frances and Lady North-umber-land had had to all but carry me to the bridal bed. I reminded myself that this was part of the plan. I wasn't Jane even if I had trapped myself in her flesh. I knew that I would have to submit, and submission wasn't exac, exa, Bugger all, I wasn't good giving in. I would fight and I was too good at fighting not to do serious dam-age even as Jane. Which she would pay for later so best to be so drunk that I was comp, comp, really uncoordi, unco, helpless. I knew I should simply yield as they started to undo all the stays and laces of my, of **Jane's** wedding finery (this wasn't **me**, not really, **not me** at **all**) but I couldn't quite man-age to give in so easily and Frances laughed as she caught my, **NOT** mine, **Jane's **arms._

I skipped to the next page since I had absolutely no desire to watch what amounted to a rape and for once there was no protest of any kind from Elizabeth.

_I curled up a little tighter on the bed telling myself the shivering was just a response to the fact that I was always cold when I was with Jane. It was so dark and quiet. I didn't particularly care for either as I listened to the scurry of rats and chirping of a few frogs which was all that Jane's dynol ears could hear. I had never in my life felt as utterly helpless as I did now. Once Guildford was… finished, and Frances was done gloating I had tried to restore myself to my own flesh without the least success. That had been **hours** ago. Even Jane's dynol eyes were beginning to pick out the first signs of impending dawn. **Trapped**, I had trapped myself in Jane's frail body. Helpless, never in my life had I felt so utterly helpless and weak. The shivers became shudders no matter how hard I fought to suppress them. All of the power had always resided within me and even though I had known my power didn't transfer when I was with Jane I had foolishly assumed that I could switch us back on my own whim. Clearly not. I was ensnared in a web of my own weaving until Jane saw fit to contact me. Except Jane didn't like magic, what would I do if she never figured out the link? Or worse changed her mind with all that power suddenly at her fingertips and abandoned me here to her fate? I swallowed hard choking on near blind panic. I was a Prince of Avalon and princes do not panic. Except I wasn't a prince at the moment and every minute that passed came closer to completely unmanning me (as if I wasn't already unmanned enough stuck in a GIRL'S body). Panicking is sloppy I reminded myself very firmly. Having hysterics wasn't going to do a bit of good. I wrapped Jane's arms even more firmly around her knees. Panicking wouldn't help but I wasn't certain it would hurt at this point. The sky was getting lighter in the east. I tried to concentrate on the sounds of birds greeting the day as a distraction from the unnatural quiet in Jane's body. I started a little at a gentle touch._

"_My apologies, milady" ah, only Mrs. Ellen tucking a blanket around my (**JANE's)** shoulders. Too bad the chill that nearly had Jane's teeth chattering wouldn't be dispelled by a mere blanket. I wanted my own body back posthaste. With a heavy sigh Mrs. Ellen sat on the bed. I wished vainly that she would leave but I was supposed to be Jane, and Jane would never send Mrs. Ellen away with a harsh word. **This** was Jane's mother not the bitch Frances that bore her. This was the woman who had suckled her, tended her minor aches and bruises, and dressed her her entire life. She ran a gentle hand down Jane's arm. Jane would not have flinched so I did not. And as any warrior or dancer will tell you bodies have memories that have nothing to do with the mind. Jane's body knew Mrs. Ellen would never hurt her and it rather thoroughly betrayed me by relaxing and being soothed. I undoubtedly could have fought but Jane wouldn't have and I was supposed to be Jane. It reminded me a bit of Argellion that night with the mardeth. I rather missed Argellion even if I wasn't particularly keen on being petted by Mrs. Ellen like some agitated cat. _

"_It's always hardest the first time lass."_

_Well, one sincerely hoped Guildford's aim would improve. I was more accurate with a long bow than Guildford was with his 'lance'. If it wasn't Jane's body that would bear the punishment I would suggest some serious practice on a 'tiltyard'. Come to think of it it was still a good idea so long as the 'yard' in question belonged to some lady of the night who was used to being hard ridden. I wasn't certain which ached more Jane's head or…elsewhere. Just as well she wasn't back yet, I told myself as another shiver I couldn't seem to suppress wracked Jane's body. It had been a very good thing I had been too drunk to even think much less speak clearly last night or I would NOT have been able to resist saying something truly scathing to Guildford that would not have led to Jane's domestic bliss. _

"_Sh, sh, love" I let Mrs. Ellen cradle me because Jane would and the body absolutely insisted that this was a good thing. I wanted to scoff but my (JANE's) head ached too abominably. I really, really missed my ability to dispel hangovers with a thought._

"Wait a bleeding minute" Jack barked "Whelp did ye just say that me brother has the ability te instantly dispel a hangover?"

I glanced down at the journal rather than face Jack's distinctly dragon like glare "Yes, that is what it says."

Jack's ire turned in Mallory's general direction "So **kind** o ye te share" he growled before waving at me to continue with a scheming look that I knew entirely too well from Elizabeth.

_Despite my best efforts I was melting under Mrs. Ellen's ministrations and Jane's body curled up against her as I drifted into a peaceful asleep. _

_(Rhys?) the brush of Jane's awareness was so uncertain I thought for a moment it was a real dream instead of us meeting in that strange in between where we so often shared each others lives. Thank God and the Draigs for Mrs. Ellen because I probably would have clawed my way back into my body in a fit of hysterics (which simply was NOT proper behavior for a Prince of Avalon no matter how trying the circumstances) instead I managed to greet Jane with at least some measure of my usual aplomb. She, on the other hand nearly threw herself at me._

_(WHAT HAPPENED?!?!)_

_(Northumberland and your mother decided that the consummation must immediately follow the wedding.)_

_A brief moment of confusion followed by a wave of anger far more in keeping with my temper than her own. _

_(You did this **INTENTIONALLY**)_

_(Of course) I began only to have her 'shove' me hard._

_(Why?!)_

_(To spare you) I answered simply since she didn't seem to be in the mood for long discussion. I was personally too overjoyed at the prospect of getting my own body back to be terribly annoyed at her ingratitude._

_(And did it ever occur to you to **ASK** if I wished to be spared?)_

_I nearly snapped 'there was no need to' but thought better of that particular response before uttering it (We both know you did) I said instead. (Can you look me in the eye as an honest Christian woman and deny it?) I continued softly._

_She swayed as my words sank in (We are now truly bound as one flesh until death do us part.) She glared at me (Will you 'spare' me every night?)_

_I would honestly rather have all of my teeth extracted on a daily basis and I could feel my guts turning to water. Not because of Guildford, that was merely a trifling annoyance, but in terror of being trapped again in Jane's powerless, dynol flesh. I tossed my head up I was the Prince of Avalon and I would NOT be ruled by fear._

_(If you wish it, yes. I told you before I would do anything in my not inconsiderable power to shield you from harm.)_

_A long silence then (You slept with my husband) followed by a metaphorical slap._

_(Well, certainly not because I **wanted** to) I shot back. I was fairly certain I hadn't deserved that._

_(That's not the point) she yelled._

_(Well someone **had** to and we've already established that **you** didn't want to) I said trying to be reasonable. _

_Her reply was an inarticulate shriek. Sheesh, what was her problem?_

_(You STOLE my body!!)_

_(**Borrowed**, with **every** intention of returning it) Absolutely, positively, and as soon as bloody possible I added to myself as I restrained a shiver._

_(Borrowing without permission **IS** stealing Rhys!)_

_(But I had no intention of **keeping** it) _

_She just blinked at me no less angry but merely stunned beyond words. _

_I debated which was wiser holding my tongue or plunging into the silence? (I don't understand why thou art distressed. Thou desired most ardently that he should never layest so much as a hand upon thee. I merely did as I thought best to fulfill thine desire.)_

_From the look on her face silence would have been the better option. Ah, well, not even my powers could call back words already spoke or actions already taken._

_(Sometime, Rhys, I forget that you were raised by a master torturer and trained by a man with no conscious.) Sorrow apparently had supplanted anger for them moment. Women were very moody. (Rhys, just swear to me that you will never again do anything to me without first discussing it and obtaining my full consent.)_

_(But Jane)_

_(**SWEAR IT!)**_

_I drew a breath and very solemnly said (I so swear). _

_(Good) she snapped and sailed back into her own flesh slamming a metaphysical 'door' in my face. I frowned; I still didn't bloody know what she was so miffed about. I shrugged content for the moment to be back where I belonged. I blinked a few times as the Peregrine took shape around me._

_(RHYS IS THAT YOU?!) Peregrine sounded even more upset than Jane, which was a pretty good trick since Jane had been quite put out. _

_(There's no need to shout. I'm right here) _

_Peregrine seemed to sag in relief (Does that mean she's gone?)_

_(For now. What did she do?)_

_(For starters she's been crying for hours, the Winds are having fits and Sea was about to drown her.)_

_Crying? I don't cry. So far as I had ever been able to determine I was incapable of crying. I just didn't DO it. It wasn't a matter of someone having once beaten it out of me tears simply never had come, had never even threatened it. Curious I went to one of the many mirrors in my cabin and with a strange sense of disorientation looked at the tear tracks on my cheeks. I gingerly gathered some of the salty moisture off of my face and rolled it between my fingers. Clearly there was nothing wrong physically and while I had no real desire to have to fight off a bad case of the waterworks I did have to wonder why exactly I never cried?_

_You know, Will, even with a few decades on my hands and not much else to do I still haven't figured out why I don't weep. I suppose we all have our little quirks. _

It wasn't in writing but I could feel Mallory-in-the-carchar try to shift a little even though he knew it was futile. My father made another swift exit. He flexed his fingers since that was a close to stretching as his prison would allow and ran them along the seemingly seamless rim of the carchar, **knowing** that there was one no matter how it appeared.

_Damn shame they took Risnca before they stuffed me in here Will. Nimrais would have at least had some suggestions on how to break these,_

I knew then that he had tried and failed on numerous occasions to summon the blade.

_Give me but a single breath free of these sigils and my sire's grochmyns and I will be king in the next. Pity that my sire while stark raving mad is neither sloppy nor stupid. _

I could feel he squash the temptation to test himself against the bloody box's seals again. He would need every scrap of strength for the visitors whose approach he could already sense.

_Best that I get as much as I can set down before my 'guests' arrive. So, quirks, you know, Will, it's odd I don't particularly mind being tortured for a good cause. Don't get me wrong I don't **LIKE** being tortured but it doesn't particularly bother me either. _

The slightest of shivers belied what was on the page.

_At least at the hands of dynol. My sire is very, very good. Better than Ivan, Skeffington, and the entire bloody Inquisition combined. Damn Draig's pride, apparently he believes in being the best at what he does as much as I do. I concede my grandsire knew what he was about in his choice of instructors I endured, I endure, but it was a nearer run thing than I will ever be comfortable with. _

I could taste him forcing memories of his father aside.

_I won't put what was done in those two dark years on these pages Will, I won't give him anything I don't have to. If he intends to reft my heart, soul, and mind from me then the first thing his little pet monsters are going to get is those memories and I sincerely hope they gage on them._

A sigh, and the equivalent of a mental shake as he seemed to withdraw a little. Clearly it was easier to say than to do.

_I do on the other hand find playing the whore…annoying, or perhaps insulting is nearer the mark. It shouldn't matter, it's only bodies. Oh, if you want to be strict about it it **is** more than that since it colors the enaid but then so does a long session with any reasonable competent torturer. Jane's God alone knows what scars that piece of filth that sired me has left. _

Another long shiver as he tightened his muscles.

_I do rather wish though that Gwyla had minded her own business that last night. Since I'm trapped in here with nothing but my memories and the nastiest cyfae that my sire can throw at me it would be nice to have one pleasant memory of an encounter. Of course at the time I was trying very hard to bury some other memories in willing flesh. It had always seemed to work for Henri._

He shook off more than a bit of melancholy. And Jack offered "Excellent idea. We'll just have te find ye a girl posthaste."

_But I digress, and **they** will be here anon. For only two was I ever willing to play the whore and both of them promptly got me killed. Ungrateful gits. At least there was a certain…innocence? to Guildford. I never liked him. He reminded me too much of an overly enthusiastic puppy but he didn't deserve to die any more than Jane did and in the end he was just as much a pawn as she. Now, Henry de Valois and his not so merry men, that was an entirely different affair. _

For just an instant I had an impression of jingling bells and a very unhappy Mallory before that was **very** firmly suppressed.

_**They** can have that memory too and good riddance. Henry de Valois had some damnedably sick tastes. Enough to say that for Heri's sake I was willing to 'take on' him and four of his favorites. The taste would be a bit less bitter if it had been truly **necessary**. Henry could have been long away before I had to_

Another significant pause.

_go that far if only he hadn't been slaking his own lust with some damn chamber maid. I really hope she was bloody **worth** it Henri! _

I would have expected the scene to have been with Jane again but to my surprise I was looking down at a chubby little boy.

_Little Louis chortled fat little fingers stretching for the jeweled jousting knight I was galloping in front of him. It had taken a bit of work but the toy was perfect, tough enough to weather all the shocks that a growing boy's (particularly one of Henri's sons. I'd entertained enough of his bastards through the years to know they were a rough and tumble lot. For all that Louis was the Dauphin I knew Henri would insist that boys should be boys.) enthusiasm could inflict without chipping, light enough not to weary young arms, but with each and every piece a flawlessly formed and carved gemstone all with a separate blessings on the owner bespelled into them. It might be the finest piece of gweath llaw I had ever made and it was so intricately formed that bordered on being a lledrith. A suitable offering for the boy who, by all plans Henri and I had ever made prior to that disastrous day in '98, **should** have been my godson. I let the toddler claim his prize before crossing to the window. Henri's servants had clearly been busy in the Chateau St-Germain-en-Laye's gardens. They were a complete and utter mess though if I was reading Henri's intent correctly by the time the boy behind me was in his teens they would be spectacular. Much like France herself under Henri's sure hand. Henri had always wanted to build, because as he frequently said, 'what is built **endures'**. It was just like Henri to build bridges and plant trees. _

_I took a deep, steadying breath as I saw his horse round the gatehouse and growled low in my throat. No escort. Damn him, stupid suicidal **FOOL**, I swore if he got himself assassinated I was going to raise him from the dead just so I could have the satisfaction of killing him myself. Anuion firmly in the guise of Duc de Sully rode discretely behind him. At least he had that much and if Anuion had been negligent I would have given him a lesson he would not have easily survived. I did a quick sweep of the grounds satisfied that everyone but myself and little Louis was safely napping. Speaking of safe I went back to the boy. One could never blindly trust toddlers to stay put and while I had certainly been capable of taking care of myself at that age every other toddler I have ever seen had a unique knack for attempted suicide. _

_If I was any judge Louis was far more his mother's son than his father's or at least more a de Medici than a Bourbon. A sullen red that reminded me of nothing so much as blood gone tacky was the predominate color of his enaid but there was enough flash and verve that I hoped he would outgrow the unfortunate shade. I was almost glad that I would be going to Avalon soon because this boy was NOT going to be a joy to raise. Actually the years of dealing with my moods might stand Henri in good stead because unless I very much missed my guess this boy was going to be far more like me in disposition than his free-spirited, magnanimous father. I could already see hints of the serious, intense, temperamental, grudge bearing soul the boy was going to have. _

_At a whispered request the stone became translucent so that I could follow Henri's progress. He stopped dead on the threshold, hand dropping to the blade at his belt. He had ridden here in a panic upon being informed that his heir had taken suddenly and potentially fatally ill. I had been keeping an ear cocked for just such a moment both because I had no intention of letting Henri lose any of his children if there was anything I could do about it and because after several months of mulling (or brooding as Peregrine was wont to call it) over the disaster in September of '98 I wanted a chance to plight my case. Perhaps Henri's reaction was simply shock at discovering my true nature. Surely a man as genuinely forgiving and just as Henri wouldn't really condemn me out of hand?_

I could feel how Henri's condemnation had eaten at him, no matter how much he denied it mattered to himself, how much he **needed** Henri's regard back.

_He stopped and tried to shake one of the many chamber maids awake calling her by name (how he kept all the names of his lovers straight was beyond me. I had noted when I sang the chateau's staff to sleep that he had managed to sleep (or more accurately not sleep) with the entire female populace down to the undergroom's wife). How exactly does THAT fit in with being the Most Christian King? I growled to myself angry about having been so easily damned and cast aside. I was reasonably certain fine upstanding Christians weren't supposed to cheat at cards either. Bloody hypocrite. Henri owed me everything he owned including his **life**. Technically he owed allegiance to me as his liege-lord how **dare **he turn on me? _

_The boy in the cradle wasn't the only one in the room given to holding grudges but I was capable of being magnanimous too, I could have let the boy die, I could have destroyed France's people as punishment for the treachery of their king as Angnar had urged me to do, I could have condemned Henri to the Bradwr Arswyd, the Traitor's Horror, as I had his predecessor Henry II. But I had no intention of raising my hand against Henri, we would work this out and part as friends. _

_He quickly checked the girl's pulse and discovering it strong breathed a sigh of relief "What do you want Draco?" he snarled._

_Not the most auspicious of attitudes but I would persevere. Henri was perfectly capable of being reasonable. He took his responsibilities as a father very seriously and hearing that Louis was ill would have had him quite distressed. Nimrais just snorted at my optimism. _

"_Just to talk" I had Wind reply._

"_What have you done to my people, demon?"_

"_Ellyllon" I retorted "And they are as much my people as yours. They are merely sleeping and will wake when I depart."_

_He folded his arm "Are you going to show yourself or am I to merely speak to the air?"_

"_I don't want to leave Louis unattended – why don't you join us?"_

_Henri's eyes widened and he bolted for the room. Now that was insult piled high on injury. As he flung himself at Louis' cradle I spat "By your God, Henri, in thirty-five years have you ever known me to threaten a babe in arms?"_

_Little Louis chirped "Pere!" and reached up to tug his (tangled wreckage as always) father's beard. As usually you could feed a small family from the crumbs in that bird's nest Henri sported on his face. He ignored me in favor of giving the boy a thorough examination. Satisfied that his heir was in the blush of good health he put him back and spotted my gift. He wrapped his fingers around the toy, eyes hard "My son needs nothing from you."_

"_Not even his life?" I countered softly, flicking my ears forward. No Shadows today, no masks, no lies. "The messenger didn't lie. He had the sweating sickness. I healed him. Did you think all those soldiers who fought for you survived their mortal wounds because your God reached down a saved them?" His hand tightened around the little toy knight, "You will find that harder to break than you did my horse." I was still angry about Galahad and saw no reason to hide the fact. "You condemned me without even giving me a right to plea my case, Henri. You shot my horse, who had done you no harm. You killed Alessandro Farnese while attempting to commit murder. I expected better of you, Henri."_

_He tossed the toy at my feet "Take it and go. I have nothing to say to you."_

"_It was a gift and I'm not in the habit of taking back what I've freely given. You know that. And I have a great deal to say to you."_

"_Do I? Did I ever know you? Gabriel was a **lie**. I don't even know your name. And why should I **not** expect you to strike down a child after what you did to my Gabrielle and our unborn son."_

"_Henri, what on earth are you talking about? I would never have harmed Gabrielle. I know what she meant to you" And she was my friend and damn easy on the eyes I added silently "If her death was anything other than a complication of child bearing I swear on my blood and my life I had **nothing** to do with it. Even if I had wanted to harm her, Henri, I was still convalescing from my wounds when she died. I would have saved her if I had known if I was able."_

_Henri was actually listening now._

"_I can't give you my name because I don't even know it myself. I'm not a **demon**. I am an Ellyllon. I was **born** an Ellyllon on March 28th, 1533. I made no deals with your devil for my abilities." Unless you count one made with dead dragons thousands of years and generations before I was a 'twinkle in my father's eye' I silently added "I was born with them. If you truly believe that your God created the world then these are the ears he gave me and my 'magic' and 'spells' are the gifts he granted me when he formed me in the womb. Is it evil to heal Henri? Is it wrong to use your God given talents?" Oh but it was a barbed question and he knew it. The Pharisees had dared to condemn Christ for healing calling him a servant of Satan. If he did the same to me he put himself squarely in their camp. _

"_You should have been a lawyer" it was **not** a compliment._

"_I am a **prince**. Traditionally rule of Avalon's Outland territories falls to the 'dauphin'. I know the Law of my House as well as I know the laws of the people who **squat** on lands these land which are **not **their own. Any ruler of France, England, Ireland, Scotland, or the Low Countries owes allegiance to **me.**"_

"_God gave dominion over the Earth to the children of Adam and Eve. Not to a pack of fairies."_

"_We Ellyllon **are** of human stock." He rocked back ready to deny it but it was absolutely true and I had no intention of not pressing that point. "We are **not** fairies. It's true" I flicked them forward "I have pointy ears. Are not a lap dog and a wolf hound both dogs? We may be different 'breeds' of men, Henri, but I'm as much a man as you are." I sliced my palm and let the blood run down my fingers. "If you cut me I bleed just as red as you, if you slap me it stings, if you tickle me I laugh. You are so very fond of claiming that your God leads your heart. Ask **Him **if I am telling the truth." I challenged. I didn't believe in Henri's God but I did believe in Henri's knack for knowing the truth._

_I saw his enaid accept the argument, saw the dawning horror because if I wasn't a demon than he had killed Sandro while attempting to commit cold blooded murder. I had no desire to hurt Henri, in any fashion, I had nearly convinced myself to let the whole matter drop except I just couldn't seem to accept the thought of going back to Avalon with Henri thinking I was a demon._

_I tilted my chin up in defiance as I glared into Henri's eyes. _

_Finally he asked "Do you deny that you have acted these fifty years under the alias of Draco?"_

"_I most certainly did take that name."_

_Henri's enaid writhed, clearly having accepted I wasn't a demon he was hoping I would now deny being Draco. _

"_Then you admit to his crimes?" _

_I arched a brow "I will freely confess to any acts I actually committed. Many things that I had no hand in were blamed upon Draco by those who sought a convenient scapegoat." _

"_Did you intentionally and willfully kill Henry the second?"_

"_Yes, I did. Does not a lord have the right to execute a vassal that rises up in rebellion?"_

"_God sets the nations in their places, it is **not** your right, prince or no, to raise your hand against his anointed."_

"_Rise for me" I whispered just loud enough for Henri to hear to the Earth beneath the châteaux and the entire building shifted as I intended. I flicked my fingers and stones on the wall rearranged themselves. I pointed and a row of trees that had been waiting for the gardeners attentions got up and planted themselves. "These. Are. **MY.** Lands. Thousands of years ago a desperate and dispossessed people came here and in the spirit of common humanity the crown prince made a blood pact with them" I was stretching the truth almost to the breaking point there. The original blood pact all but made the newcomers slaves. "they were permitted to settle among us so long as they abided by our Law. In time, for reasons that do not concern you, my people chose to move permanently Under the Hill but that does not and did not negate the blood pact. You tell me Henri, can you heal the wounded and dieing, can you call rain down on dry fields, do the trees bend to your will, can you whistle a bird out of the sky, do the beasts of field and forest serve your will, does the land itself acknowledge your lordship with ever fall of your foot? You tell me which of us is **truly** lord of these lands." I could feel the Drag trying to rise and I reined it in hard before continuing "You are permitted to live here only so long as you obey our Law. The Blood Law calls for the annihilation of the entire House of any vassal who defies a Ruling Prince."_

_Every speck of color leached out of Henri's face as he yanked off his hat. _

"_I grant clemency" I said swiftly. So swiftly that for the first time in years I had to stop and make myself slow down "I swear to you I have no intentions of moving against you or your family. I am merely establishing that by Law and long established Blood Pact I was within my rights to remove the House of Valois and place whoever I chose in their stead."_

"_And what about your father, the King?" Henri murmured still shaken by the thought of both France and his family caught up in another whirlwind when they were just beginning to recover._

"_I have never seen him nor he me so I can not say with certainty but I am the first Prince since the days of my grandsire's elder brother Merlin to take an active interest in the Outland Kingdoms. Both my father and grandfather refused even their taithes" seeing his confusion I elaborated "Traditionally all Princes of the Blood are supposed to spend at least a year and a day traveling incognito in the Outlands sometime between their 120th and 210th year but until I was sent here as a Changeling no Prince of the Blood had even looked upon the Outlands in over a thousand years."_

"_That was before I tried to kill his son."_

"_Well" I offered since he still seemed quite worried "It isn't as if he hasn't tried that himself."_

_That earned me several seconds of stunned silence which I finally decided to fill "The reason my grandsire smuggled me out of Avalon was to ensure my life did not end in the same manner as that of all of my father's other children. He sent a mardeth to kill me the same night he killed my grandfather to take the throne. It is possible he might have thanked you if you had killed me when you had the opportunity."_

"_Why did you come here Ellyllon Prince? What is it you what of me?"_

_My heart sank, there was no warmth in either voice or enaid. "I have been called to Avalon. I leave in less than a fortnight." I very firmly stopped myself from nibbling at my lower lip. It was undignified for a Prince of Avalon. "I do not know what awaits me there" My father hadn't made any attempts on my life since my grandfather died and he was securely on the throne. He needed an heir, didn't he? Surely he wouldn't immediately try to kill me. But no matter how many logical reasons I gave myself or how much I was looking forward to finally seeing Avalon there was a chill I couldn't quite shake. "It will be at least fifty years before I look on the Outlands again" I didn't say you will be dead by then I hardly needed to "I didn't want us to part as enemies."_

"_I am sorry but I do not see how we can be anything else" he said firmly with none of the warmth or generosity I had come to love. When Ascham had been making me translate the entire Bible from language to language there were a few passages that rather came to mind. 1st Samuel 18:1 'and it came to pass that the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David and he loved him as his own soul' and 2nd Samuel 1:26 "I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan; very pleasant thou hast been to me, thy love to me was wonderful, surpassing the love of women.' When I had first read those passages I had assumed that David and Jonathan were engaged in a liaison that would get them stoned if they were caught. But that wasn't it. As closely bound as Jane soul and mine had been, close enough that Jane had taken me with her in death, I had never loved Jane the way I loved Henri. I couldn't go into whatever awaited me in Avalon with Henri's hate at my back._

"_I don't understand" I said softly._

"_Did you murder Henry the III?"_

"_Yes, but like his father he rebelled against me."_

"_Did you murder Don Juan of Austria?"_

"_Yes, but he led an invading army against my lands and my people."_

"_Did you murder Ivan of Russia?"_

"_Yes"_

"_Was he your vassal? Was he harming your people? Invading your lands?"_

_Ivan the Terrible? Henri was going to condemn me for killing Ivan the **Terrible**?_

"_You always mocked me for trembling in face of the East Wind. Let me show you **why**." Hell be **damned** if I would quietly allow myself to be blamed for killing Ivan. It wasn't long before battle hardened Henri was messily sick. _

"_Yes, I killed him and my only regret is that I didn't do it a decade earlier."_

_Henri didn't gainsay my words and needed to draw several steadying breaths. I didn't blame him. Henri was battle hardened but he had no stomach for torture and Ivan could have given Skeffington extensive lessons in the art. _

"_How many people have you killed?"_

"_By my own hand? Or at my orders? And should that be only assassinations or including the battlefields?" _

_That I even needed to ask for the question to be clarified probably didn't bode well for my case. _

"_In total Ellyllon Prince."_

_I chose to exclude those who died in the wars but not directly by my own hand or by men under my direct personal command. The tally took a bit of time I hadn't put a number on my dead since that night against the mardeth "32,316" I whispered the number. It seemed impossibly large and Henri's eyes widened in surprise._

"_And were all of them outlaws, rebels, or monsters?"_

_Technically, Ivan was my only kill since my return to Europe in 1553 that I couldn't twist the Law to justify. By the Law of the Blood my youthful kills could be laid at my grandfather's feet. I really should have been a lawyer because I would have walked away from every charge whistling. _

"_They were all legal" I whispered, but then the Law favored the Blood. _

"_There is a law above and beyond the laws of men, written on the heart of every true human child. Look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you have never committed a murder that broke the law of true justice and I will beg your forgiveness for ever thinking ill of you."_

_I could lie to him, I was good at it but there moments in which a lie must not be uttered._

"_I can not."_

"_And how many were true murders Ellyllon Prince? Ten? A hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand?"_

"_Not that many!" My voice cracked splitting across octaves "less than a thousand."_

"_But more than a hundred" it wasn't a question and I didn't bother answering it. I didn't need to. I knew how Henri saw the world. What I had done even his generous soul couldn't forgive and short of his Christ I'd never met a man more forgiving than Henri. Henri would forgive the man that killed him. But not me. _

"_I've prayed for you, as I have never prayed for anyone else in my life, but if you weren't born a demon, Ellyllon Prince, you've made yourself into one. And I will pray that your soul swiftly finds its way to Hell to spare all the innocents you would otherwise destroy."_

_My mouth worked for several seconds before I finally remembered how to speak "I thought there was no sin your Christ couldn't forgive, nothing His blood couldn't cover."_

_Henri's enaid brightened to the point it was painful to look at and his tone was eager "Will you truly become a new creature in Christ 'Reil?"_

_I wavered that 'Reil nearly enough to make me say it but this discussion had reminded me of who and when and why I had killed and if I was damned for refusing to accept a God who abandoned his faithful to die then I was damned. I wouldn't lie not here not now._

"_I can't. I can't swear allegiance to a lord who leaves his followers to be slaughtered."_

"_Wretched creature. You are right, you are lord of these lands and I will not raise my hand against God's anointed but I will rejoice should word come to me of your death. Good can never come of evil acts." And with that he turned his back on me. _

_I stumbled, suddenly unable to breathe as my fingers closed around the sill before I tumbled backward out of the unshuttered window. Would it matter if I dashed my brains out on the courtyard below? I had to get out of here. **Had **to. I fled out the window scrambling to escape. _

"_Jonathan, Jonathan are you ready?" Will's voice sounded very far away. Fingers closed around my upper arm as he shook me "Jonathan?! Are you well?" Odd that I hadn't notice him coming in. Sloppy that. Come to think of it I didn't remember coming back to the Globe from my visit to Henri either and I wasn't due on stage until the evening performance. It couldn't be that late yet. It had been only a few hours past dawn when, when, he, I. I blinked at Will before my mind went back to Henri turning his back on me. Rejoice at my death. Rejoice because I was a man so evil hell itself would spit me back out. I was suddenly glad that Milady Latimer and Jane had died. That they hadn't seen what I had become. Will shook me again, trying to get my attention. I pulled away. Will was a good man, I had to get away from him before he realized what I was too. I slipped away from the Globe heading down toward the Thames. It wasn't until I was on one of the docks that it occurred to me how foolish I had been to come here. I couldn't die on the Sea and death was what I deserved. She wouldn't allow it. Henri was right, I had no business still breathing. I had no business putting myself forth as an heir to a throne. _

"_Christ save us, Jonathan, what is amiss?"_

_Will again, in black face, he was supposed to be Othello to my Desdemona, maybe he would really strangle me. Except Gentle Will would never. He wasn't the beast I was. And he shouldn't have followed me down here, this part of the city was hardly safe, especially after dark which was swiftly approaching. Apparently I'd lost the entire day in a daze. Sloppy, part of me whispered, anyone could have put a dagger between your ribs while you wandered like a lost soul through the cesspits of London. I wrinkled my nose, my shoes stank. Evidently I hadn't been paying attention to where I put my feet either but what did it matter? Vain, proud, haughty, arrogant beyond bearing, my faults were legion._

"_Nothing, I'm fine." Desdemona – ill-fated how appropriate except I should have been playing Iago. I started back toward the Globe. I didn't need Will's blood on my hands too._

"_Like Hell" Will dropped down onto a barrel and I stopped loath to leave him here. Maybe some bandits would show up and I could die saving him. Except Will would be guilty about my death and that wouldn't do. Not at all. Rejoice at my death. Monster, murderer, despoiler that was me for and aft. Unworthy, unredeemable. How do you make amends to the dead? _

"_We're on stage in less than an hour" I reminded him. I needed to get him moving again before London's cadre of cutthroats started slinking up from under their respective rocks in earnest. If they killed me it would only be justice but I couldn't bear the thought that Will might be harmed._

"_To hell with the play." I didn't think he believed me about being fine. Apparently I wasn't lying as well as usual. Sloppy. Lair, cheat, fake, embezzler, thief, rake, pirate, I was those too._

"_I thought the show must go on" I tried to make it a quip but it fell quite, quite flat._

"_The show of life is far more important than anything that struts and frets upon the stage." I had played on so very many stages, spy, traitor, blasphemer with the exception of rape I had committed every sin to which man could aspire. _

_Because of Bess Will knew what I was now but unlike Henri Will wouldn't know the name Draco and what it had meant in the courts of Europe for fifty years and I had neither the time nor the heart to explain. Couldn't face the thought of hearing the words again from the lips of another good man because no one good or descent would ever speak to me if they knew the truth. Unworthy, unclean. No, Will wouldn't ever have anything to do with me again, neither would Milady Latimer, or Mannwan, or Jane, or Henry, or James, or any of the people whose regard I had ever sought to gain. I shivered even though I wasn't cold. Monster. The cats had know the truth ever since Looks Afar._

"_Did you by chance talk to the French king today?"_

_I nodded. The part of me that was **screaming** about how sloppy I was being wanted very much to know why Will would ask that question. How he would even know of a connection to the French King._

"_Then I have message from my Dark Lady for you 'While blood shed can never be washed away the shedding of more atones for nothing. If the butcher's bill troubles you then redeem death with life."_

_I clutched at her words like a drowning man clinging to flotsam. I didn't trust the Dark Lady, she had her own agenda both for me and for Avalon. I knew it in my bones and blood but she was also powerfully gifted and far older than I. Should I ignore her wisdom simply because I didn't fully understand her motives? If I could not undo the grievous errors of my youth could I not at least learn from them? I would find some way to save more lives that I had ever taken. It would never, ever balance. Lives taken could never be returned, not without making other more grievous errors. I would not go there again. It wouldn't make me worthy to live but I could at least be useful to the living. I did my best to shake off Henri's condemnation. I had a little time left in the Outlands and I intended to live it as best I could._

_I wasn't a good man like you were Will, you have no idea of the depths to which I sank but I swear if I ever get out of here I will be a good man. I will. I promise._

Across from me Jack cursed. If it hadn't been for Will and the mysterious Dark Lady I doubted Mallory would have survived to reach Avalon. I remembered Argellion yelling at Mannwan that he would break Mallory. I had personally scoffed at the thought. If there was one thing this journal had proven it was just how tough Mallory was except that what Skeffington, the Inquisition, and the King of Avalon hadn't been able to do in decades Henri had done with a single sentence, he had shattered Mallory and I wasn't certain that he'd ever recovered. I could feel it in the blood soaked pages. Down there in the dark with nothing but his memories for company Mallory had gnawed on that judgment like a dog with only one bone. It was a wound that had festered and slowly poisoned him more than the loss of a third of his soul. This was half of what was wrong with Mallory, the belief that he deserved to die. Except that this Mallory had been looking for ANY excuse to cling to life. We were still missing the other half of the equation, why did Mallory now WANT to die? And to be honest for all his talk of what a monster he had been I had yet to see an example of completely inexcusable wickedness.

"I'm thinking that I want te have a long talk with this Henri" Jack growled, spiting mad. You didn't see that often. Jack wasn't s usually nearly as consumed by rage as his brother but then I had never dreamed Mallory could feel as frail as he had in that last passage. Fragile wasn't a word I thought of when I thought of Mallory but that was exactly what he had been. To my surprise I felt something shift in response to Jack's wanting. Surely not, Henri had been dead for nearly a century. But then so had Meleri and she certainly seemed to have an opinion. Maybe Jack's silver tongue could convince Henri to rethink his opinion of Mallory. If we could shake half that death wish of his I would gladly put up with an undead French king. He couldn't possibly be any worse than Barbossa and a pack of cursed pirates.

"Stop that" I barked and snatched the journal away from parrot who squawked indignantly at me before starting to pace. In spite of the seriousness of the situation I could feel a grin tugging at my lips. Parrots had the funniest little sway when they paced. I glanced over at Mr. Not Cotton but he was looking up in the general direction of Mallory. It was tough to tell since Mr. Not Cotton had one expression for all occasions (clearly the Ellyllon who had wrapped him in Shadow wasn't up to Mallory's exacting skill in Shadow craft) but I thought he seemed deeply disturbed.

Jack followed parrot's example and Elizabeth stifled a giggle as Jack and the parrot managed to pace and sway in perfect rhythm. Jack finally waved his hands in the general direction of Not Cotton's gaze.

"What the bleeding hell were ye thinking te sign fer cargo like that?" Jack snapped "What a bleeding load o' bilge water ye took on. Ye expected better o' Henri? Well I expected better sense from ye. Ye counted yer dead, brother, but did ye ever bother te reckon the living? Don't bloody deserve te live me arse" Jack cursed in several different languages. "I might have been a drunken fool with Barbossa but I do know how te judge men and ye **are** a good man ye great bloody fool." Jack flung himself back into his seat "Carry on, Mr. Turner, let's see what other bit of daft stupidity me brother has himself fixated on."

_I am not certain which is worse the murders I committed on little more than a whim or the deaths caused by my mistakes. And I made so many terrible mistakes Will. First and foremost being ignoring your Dark Lady's advice since it was she in one of her many disguises who warned me to sever my link with Jane and remain at sea. She had the good grace to not **quite** say I told you so. So much blood Will and so much death. Young fool._

_(RHYS!!) I whipped my head up so fast I cracked it against one of the Peregrine's beams hard enough to see stars._

_(Jane, what is it?) _

_(The King is dead. Rhys, they're calling me Queen.) One outgrowth of my commandeering Jane's body the other day was that I was closer than ever to Jane. No effort on my part seemed to be required any more to see through her eyes. I watched as a meager handful of lords bowed to Jane by week's end I was willing to wager that not a one would still stand by her._

_(Deny the crown) I advised backing my words with a wave of foreboding (Sob, wail, swoon, whatever it takes do NOT let them crown you.) As I had expected Eyes had failed to secure Mary and even now the nation was rallying to her banner. In a week Mary would be on the throne. I would be in Cairo tomorrow but I still needed to cross the Med and the breadth of Europe. I was never going to beat Mary to London especially since my little switch with Jane had cost a full half day's sail since Jane had not only managed to bring my forward progress to a halt but had lost some ground. If Jane was seen to have actively refused the throne Mary would be more inclined to clemency and Mary was hardly vicious by nature. If Mary thought Jane's hand had been forced it would take weeks if ever for her advisors to convince her to execute Jane. There was still a risk of an overzealous Marian patriot assassinating Jane so I had no intention of slowing down._

_Already frightened Jane needed little encouragement from me to begin weeping. _

_(Make certain to insist that this pleases you **NOT**. That the throne is Mary's by right) she mumbled it through her sobs. Watching I was very glad that I didn't weep, it was sloppy. (Damn it, speak clearly Jane) I hissed at her (Your life may depend upon it.)_

_I must have been a bit too forceful or she was more overwrought than I realized because she promptly fainted. Bugger. I couldn't see through Jane's eyes when the silly girl closed them. What was it with women and fainting? It was sloppy and it left you horribly vulnerable._

_(Jane) I said trying to revive her (Come on Jane, there's a brave girl). Somebody pinched her. I was willing to bet it was Frances. No one else would be bold enough since there was still a slim chance Jane would retain the throne. As Jane's eyes fluttered open sure enough there was Frances. I really wished Jane would let me kill her. Maybe if I just didn't tell her?_

_(Where **ARE** you Rhys?) Jane's voice was a plaintive wail in my mind. _

_(Coming) I told her (coming as swiftly as the wildest wind can blow)_

_(Come **faster**) she begged._

_(Just make certain you refuse to crown) I retorted._

_(Mary is coming, isn't she?)_

_(Not just yet) I soothed I needed her to take the danger seriously but not to lose her head. I shivered at my poor choice of thought. I sent courage and comfort but kept my mental voice grave. (But soon. Northumberland has already called a muster.)_

_(I don't want civil war Rhys. I don't want men to die for a throne I don't want.) She paused (You expect us to lose.) It wasn't a question. (Rhys what aren't you telling me?)_

'_A legion of things' I thought in that dark place I never let Jane anywhere near where I hid the Draig that slithered around the corners of my soul. _

_(The commons are rising for Mary, en masse. The seven ships Northumberland sent to guard the coast from a potential Hapsburg invasion have declared for Mary and will not turn back any Hapsburg troops. Word of Ned's death is spreading like wildfire and most of the provincial nobles are planning to back Mary. If I could arrive before Mary takes London I could raise both the land itself and the Old Blood in your name. It might be enough to end this without civil war.)_

_(But you aren't going to arrive in time are you?)_

_(Mary has to go 25 miles, I have to go 2,500. I'm fast Jane, but not that fast.) She burrowed into me and I wrapped my metaphysical arms around her offering what comfort I could. (Just submit to Mary) I purred to her (until I arrive. If you want the throne I will find a way to give it to you.)_

_(NO!) she ripped herself away from me leaving a gap were none had been. It felt like I'd lost a piece of my heart and I reeled as she continued (It pleases me not!)_

_(Then I won't) I cooed desperately wooing her back and once she was tucked securely back into her place at my side I commented dryly (Would you mind telling that to the Marquess of Winchester who is about to set the crown on your head?) Both ears flicked as Wind brought me dire word._

_(Rhys?) I sent Jane every warm feeling I'd ever learned from Milady Latimer lulling her while I shifted most of my attention onto the flame I now kept burning at all waking hours on a brazier in the center of my desk. I hadn't recognized the voices and no names had been named clearly others shared my evaluation of the situation and intended to relieve Mary of the necessity of ordering Jane's death. The one bright point was that, from the sound of things, they were not, nor did they yet, have agents in the city. I now had a perfect bead on my estate and Gwyn was waiting on the other end. I knew just how futile it was to try writing anything so I decided to draw. The only problem being that I frankly wasn't terribly good at drawing. Oh, my handwriting was exquisite, Aschem would have accepted nothing less even if it hadn't been a matter of pride to be better than Eyes and Bess, and I could make perfectly acceptable draftsman like maps and diagrams but I was NO Titan. I generally avoided anything artistic like the plague since there was no reason at all to call attention to one of my few shortcomings. Lluniwer must have been hovering nearby for he appeared almost instantly when Gwyn called. Hmmm, keen indeed to have his other hand healed, not that I could blame him. _

_I drew a quick sketch of Lluniwer and Gwyn walking with a candle led by another flame. I wasn't Michelangelo but I was at least a bit better in flame than with ink or paint. Gwyn might not be able to grasp the concept of writing but she seemed to be able to grasp the painfully obvious as she grabbed a candle and Lluniwer's good hand as I crafted a flame to lead them to my chambers, which, had, I was pleased to note, been maintained just as I left them. If Lluniwer had searched the room for its secrets then he had done an impressive job of covering his tracks. Of course I hadn't left much to find either but I was very glad I'd made a copy of Mannwan's list of Alltude because I had the distinct impression I was going to need more than just Lluniwer in the near future. I dispelled the Shadow that had hidden the note. Cromwell had required that I be a skilled forger but the copy of the note had been the first time I had ever attempted to forge magic as well as mere parchment and ink. I was quite curious to see what Lluniwer's reaction would be._

_He nearly tore the parchment as the hand I hadn't healed tried to clench and he snarled "Mannwan."_

_Interesting, so there was bad blood between my favorite teacher and my current steward, I knew there was a reason why I'd didn't trust Lluniwer beyond that I was paranoid as a matter of course. He had to use the good hand to prize the paper back out of the other. _

"_I assume you want me to assemble the rest of list?"_

"_Y"_

"_Here?"_

"_N"_

"_At the London house?" Lluniwer did not sound enthused at the prospect but then my London townhouse, while not a hovel, certainly wasn't as nice as any of my country houses. The truth was I had only set foot in the place once and had never done a damn thing with it, with the exception of the stables I had never done or lived in any of my houses. _

"_Y"_

_He narrowed his eyes as he read the list. There were names on it he didn't care for much more than Mannwan but I couldn't tell which ones. "I will send them there as I find them."_

I straightened a little rubbing the back of my neck, surprised to see that the stars were fading and the first hints of dawn were beginning to color the sky outside. We only had until noon, I needed to read faster, except _everything_ in this bit about Jane had the 'edge' I had been skimming for. I finally decided to flip ahead to Mallory's arrival back in England and to hope that I wasn't skipping anything critical.

_The stones of the Tower greeted me, cushioning my landing as I came in harder than I intended. Sloppy, Skeffington would beat me for that if I hadn't fed him to the lions years ago. I glanced down as I leaned against the battlements catching my breath and checking the lions. I was surprised to see Sharp Wits, her muzzle now completely white, was still alive. None of the other lions that had devoured Skeffington had survived my absence from the Tower. Sensing my regard her great head swiveled around as she met my eyes._

_(Let me die free, Fleet Feet)_

_I didn't want to make a promise I might not be able to keep, Jane had to come first and I had lost track of events here in the brutal flight across Europe. _

_(I have a friend trapped in the cells again. I have to see to her first, but if I can I will) I swore to the old lioness. _

_She wrinkled her hoary nose (Cub, you and your pride seem to have a knack for landing in trouble.)_

_(We do at that) I said ruefully. (I have to go.)_

_(Good hunting) she said to my back as I asked the stones where Jane was being held. _

_I made my way quickly to the House of the Gentleman Gaoler of the Tower which was near the Beauchamp Tower where the according to one of the more chatty flagstones the Dudley's were being held. I was a bit surprised that they were housing Jane so close to Guildford since the last thing Mary would want was a pregnancy but I was glad that Jane wasn't in any of the actual towers. The House of the Gentleman Gaoler was a quite comfortable half-timber affair and if Master Partridge was still at the post Jane would not suffer. _

_Learning to walk through stone had been a priority of mine during my time with Mannwan and I had a fairly good relationship with most of the Tower. The stone, brick, and timber of the house greeted me warmly as I walked through the wall. I tossed myself down on Jane's bed with a sigh content to rest here until she finished dinner with Master Partridge and his family. Wind brought me the sound of wild rejoicing in the streets. I hoped as I drifted off into an exhausted sleep that Jane's dynol ears couldn't hear it. Even though she didn't want to be Queen the people's joy at Mary's triumph would have to burn._

_I woke with a start. Singing, someone was singing in the room **WITH** me, how the blazes could I have been so sloppy?! The fact that it was Mrs. Ellen did nothing to mollify me. Damn Jane. Just because Mrs. Ellen would walk through Hell for her didn't mean she would do the same for me. Since my second little body swapping trick Jane's thoughts and feelings had started taking up residence in my head to the point that it was difficult to tell who thought what. If her eyes were open I saw through them, I heard through her ears even when she slept, I could feel the cup her fingers were wrapped around, I knew what she was wearing, how dinner with the Partidges tasted, and what the topic of conversation had been in spite of the fact I had been napping. And I had slept through Mrs. Ellen's return because Jane would have. What was most annoying was that the influence didn't seem to run both ways. I was under siege from Jane but she only seemed to receive what I actively sent. I tucked myself up into the far corner of the bed after requesting a ready escape route from the stone behind me should it become necessary. I let myself go back to drowsing while keeping a weather ear on Mrs. Ellen. _

_I roused fully just before Jane and Mrs. Tilney entered, trying to shrug off my weariness. I probably could have truly slept but I didn't trust my trust of Mrs. Ellen. My world reeled when Jane entered, the room was disjointed and twisted as I saw the same space through two sets of eyes._

The sound of Elizabeth being sick yanked me out of the journal. I wrapped a steadying arm around her while my father cleaned up the mess. I decided to avoid the passages with Jane as much as possible, it wasn't worth making Elizabeth sick.

"You know, luv" Jack observed while trying to get a slightly better angle to look down her bodice. Bloody pira…was Elizabeth's cleavage a bit more ample than usual? "You don't have te take the notion o' morning sickness quite so literally." He passed her a cup of what looked to be tea. When had he had time to brew tea?

She shook her head miserably, "I don't even want to think about putting anything in my stomach."

"Me brother used te make this back when he was captain for ladies aboard who where…" Jack rolled his eyes at the Governor's hurrump but switched whatever it was he was going to say to the more proper "in the family way."

Elizabeth considered the cup warily "And you remembered the recipe?"

"Don't think I ever knew it, luv. But when the whelp mentioned how Mallory hid things in his chamber it got me te thinking about all the 'Veils o' Shadow' that he told me were stashed about the Pearl. Barbossa certainly never found any o' them and me brother pounded inte me head were the medicinal chest was, how te open it, and what each o' the remedies he'd left here was good for and the dosages o' each" Jack's lips twitched "Didn't think there was any point te learning it since at the time I never believed there would be a time when ol' Mallory wouldn't be around." He offered her the cup again. "Jack might not know much about medicine lass but Mallory does."

This time she took the cup though her first sip was decidedly cautious, she paused, waited a moment and then took a more generous gulp. Her color improved markedly and I was ashamed to see I had realized just how pale she had grown these last few days.

She glanced at me, fingers wrapped in a stranglehold around the cup, "Pray continue, Will, we don't have a lot of time left before noon."

Even though Elizabeth was feeling better I decided to still skip over the scene with Jane.

'_The old salts are right' I reflected sourly 'women are bad luck, annoying, and more trouble than they could ever possibly be worth' I kicked a loose cobble down the street. The bloody wench drags me half way round the planet at a pace even the Wind had difficulty keeping only to all but dismiss me out of hand with a 'I will wait patiently upon the Queen's pleasure.'_

_(Yo-u---re par—don---yo---ur----gr—a-ce) the stone apologized as I drew abreast with it again (I---did---n—t---me-an----no-----of---fen—se)_

_I stopped and sighed. Mannwan would chide me for it but I begged the stone's pardon. Just because I was in an ill temper was no excuse to take it out on others down to and including the street. Dirt got walked on enough as it was. I picked the stone up and found it a spot it liked. It took a moment to settle the cobbles back down since they were so excited that I had even noticed them I hadn't the heart to leave without talking to them a little. As I continued on my way to the town house to meet Lluniwer and the two Altude that had arrived in London so far a smile tugged the edge of my lips. Those cobblestones would likely still be talking about how a prince had once noticed them long after both they and I had gone to dust. Stone remembers long._

_I gave my townhouse a critical glance, the colors simply would **NOT** do if I was going to be actually **using **the place. I would have Lluniwer secure a few servants and choose some better colors before I left today. I introduced myself to the bricks, stone, and ironwork pausing to impress my power on the locks so that they would refuse to admit anyone I denied access regardless of keys or lock picks before continuing inside. _

_Lluniwer and the two Ellyllon with him bowed low as was proper a prince._

"_Please rise" I studied the newcomers carefully. I was surprised to sense a blood link between the mysterious Anuion and Mannwan. I liked him instantly and mistrusted the inclination. Trust was not a thing to be bestowed lightly if at all. Anuion rose but he did not raise head nor his eyes so I turned my attention to the other first. Taflu ap Swyn a glyw of House Lofrudd. The house of the assassin. Interesting choice of names, particularly since according to Argellion they actually specialized in sigils and spells. Taflu was one of the few Altude whose crime had been noted on the scrap of parchment left behind, he had challenged the authority of his Udd, Unben ap Lofrudd of House Lofrudd. Who was, according to Argellion, a close associate of my father. Knowing that my father had a taste for tormenting dynols and had killed his father one wondered what it was Taflu had refused to do. Probably nothing pleasant. Taflu had never killed I could see that plainly in his enaid. I had less experience reading Ellyllon enaids than dynol ones but I was inclined to suspect that Skeffington would have called Taflu hopelessly soft. Not comforting given that I was likely to need men of war more than poets. Like Lluniwer Taflu was no Shadow weaver but his silver hair and regular features would draw less.. comment than Lluniwer's green skin. A rag wrapped over his ear tips and eyes and he could easily pass as a blind beggar. _

"_I am aware that the previous King declared you exiles, to be left without succor by any Ellyllon or cyfae. As Lluniwer has told you, I have recruited him to serve me. Under the Law I do not exist and thus King Mathon's decree does not apply to me. I invite you to enjoy the benefits of my protection by swearing to serve me. I think Lluniwer can vouch that I have not been a difficult master." Lluniwer gave them both a grin that would have had me counting my fingers after shaking hands with him were I in their shoes. Of course now that I was back I fully intended to give my estates a very through audit. _

_Anuion hit the floor fully prostrate and said around his tears, voice husky "My prince honors me far above my worth. I am humbled that I have been called to serve"_

_Well, if I had had any doubts about my instincts this put them to rest. This guy was definitely related to Mannwan. _

"_Command me and I shall obey."_

_He also clearly shared Mannwan's affinity with Earth. _

"_Prithee rise, my good gentle" I offered him a hand but he cringed away before scrambling to his knees "I am not worthy of your gaze never mind your touch my prince."_

_I'd forgotten just how disconcerting being truly worshipped because that was what was in Anuion's enaid. Lluniwer's House might consider the Draig's themselves holy but I was reasonably certain that he considered me no more sacred than Argellion had which brought me back to Taflu who looked decidedly uncertain before bowing "Command me and I shall obey." It was not the most rousing commitment I had ever heard. I passed Taflu a few small pearls and wove Shadow over his ears and eyes since the rest of him could pass for dynol. _

"_Go and acquire so more suitable garb" I dropped some rich rubies and sapphires into Lluniwer's good hand. He looked disappointed "You still have three more to assemble. And for Draig's sake find someone to paint this hovel. I will have to at least put up an appearance of living here and I intent to do so in **style**." His departure left me alone with Anuion who had yet to get off his knees. _

"_You may rise. And look up." I offered. He did finally rise._

"_You aren't much good to me if you are forever walking into things" at that he cautiously lifted his eyes from the floor. Blue eyes with pupils that could nearly pass for a dynol's but there was power there, less than Lluniwer's but more than Taflu or even Dirwyn. "I have some tasks of my own to see to but I will need your help tomorrow, midday."_

"_I will be here my prince, whenever you need me, whatever the task."_

_Well, I had come to break someone out of the Tower, Sharp Wits was at least willing. So, where should I take an old lioness to die? I could take her to my own estates but I hadn't seen Henry in far too long and I was willing to bet he would be sympathetic to another prisoner. Everything in me protested flying again so soon but it was just a short flight and Henry was at the other end._

_For as weary as I was I made a fairly decent landing. The Rose Garden around the old stone from the Tower was coming along nicely and the stone seemed quite content in its new home. I curled up on the rock to continue the nap that Mrs. Ellen had interrupted earlier. _

_I stretched, feeling much more rested by the time Henry made his evening pilgrimage to the Rose Garden. Henry was far too much a creature of habit for my comfort. Any assassin could easily target him on his 'cool of the day' walk out here. When I'd brought it up years ago he'd all but patted me on the head and quite reasonably asked who on earth would want to kill Thomas Norrington? Which was a valid point but still. Habits like this one of his were sloppy and sloppy gets you killed. Time to make that point to Henry. I wrapped myself in the Shadow of a highway man and tucked myself into the natural shadows of the roses waiting for my prey to settle himself on the stone I had recently vacated. I studied his enaid and frowned. Oh, he was healthy, content, even happy but his enaid still looked old. I had hoped that the years of joy would eventually give him back some of his youth but apparently it was not to be. I hesitated knowing that this was his quiet time with his God. Of course if a real highwayman came out here to rob him when he was alone he probably wouldn't much care that Henry was at his prayer. I slunk forward and sprung. I wrapped one hand around his mouth, rested one of my daggers against his ribs and growled "Yer money or yer life." He froze, heart galloping for a moment before his enaid flushed with…joy?_

"_Rhys!" he whirled (I nearly slit my own wrist making certain I didn't cut him – now THAT would have been unbearably sloppy!) and crushed me in a bear hug that had my fragile ribs a feather's touch from breaking. It was nice to know I'd been missed but being able to breath was better, a complaint that I had to use Wind to make since Henry was smothering me as I dropped the highwayman disguise and threw up an outer Shadow so no one would notice us._

"_Damn it Rhys what are you doing back here?" his attempt to chide was completely ruined by his sparkling eyes and the grin he couldn't seem to wipe off his face._

"_I hope you don't look like this when you are disciplining my godson."_

"_God knows I've missed you Rhys but, seriously, your last letter made it sound like Lucifer's hounds couldn't have drug you out of the South Seas. When did you get back and why did you leave?"_

"_Just before noon and Jane is in the Tower."_

_Just the mention of the Tower knocked all the joy out of him, "Then go get her out."_

"_She won't go. She says she is awaiting Mary's judgment."_

"_She must have much better accommodations than I ever did" he muttered eyes far away. "Drag her out kicking and screaming if you have to but take her and go." _

_I wrapped my arms around my knees "I promised I wouldn't."_

"_Then leave her" Henry said flatly._

"_I can't."_

_Henry finally looked at me again "No, I don't suppose you could. It isn't in your nature. Will you be coming to supper?"_

_My stomach growled at the mere mention and some of Henry's good humor returned though I think it had more to do with my mortification that I had been so basely betrayed by my own body than anything else._

"_Yes, how did you know it was me?" _

_Henry held a hand out to me which I took questioningly "No highwayman would have hands this small." He tilted his head appraising me "You look good Rhys, better than I've ever seen you, even if you are tanned as brown as a walnut. Asia must agree with you. Go back."_

_I sighed "I have a favor to ask."_

"_Yes"_

"_You don't even know what it is yet" I protested._

_Henry shrugged "I owe you my life, Rhys, and I trust you wouldn't even ask for something I wasn't willing to give."_

"_I'd like to let a lioness run free in your game park."_

_Long pause "Did you bring one back with you?"_

_I shook my head "Sharp Wits from the Tower doesn't want to die there. Her heart doesn't have long; I think one good hunt will finish her off. I thought you might enjoy a little taste of Africa." Henry was enough of a nobleman to enjoy the hunt and I was willing to bet I could magic one real hunt out of Sharp Wits. It would kill her but I didn't think she would mind at all._

_Henry smiled "The park is yours. I'll give the servants and peasants orders to stay away" I had every intention of backing **that **up with a few well placed spells! "Now, you must be famished."_

At the word famished Mallory-in-the-carchar's hunger rolled of the page and practically prowled around the cabin. You could feel him force it back down as he tried to continue his narrative without daydreaming about food.

_I had to adjust my Shadow of Lord Tallyrand's appearance to that of a twenty year old dynol as we left the Rose Garden. Meg gave a decidedly unladylike squeal of delight when she spotted me and nearly threw herself at me before she recalled proper decorum (which was a very good thing since I was about half the size and a quarter of the Shadow's apparent age)_

"_And now my heart is once more complete" I have her a sweeping bow "For I have passed through the great and forlorn darkness that encompasses anywhere that is far from thee but have emerged once more to bask in my lady's glorious light." I slipped a ring onto her fingers when I kissed her hand._

_She smiled, "Flatterer. Is there no still no Lady Tallyrand?"_

"_But my heart already belongs to another" I sighed melodramatically "how could I ever wrong some poor maid by wooing her when she could never hold a candle to thee?"_

_Whatever courtly response Meg was going to give was neatly cut off by Henry "Can't you see the poor man is wasting away for want of good solid English fare? Let us continue over supper. I'm certain young Rhys wishes to see his godfather."_

_I personally would be surprised if Rhys even recognized me. "Shameless flirt" Henry muttered as he went by._

"_I thought you found it amusing" I whispered back._

"_I do" he rejoined "but not while my supper is getting cold."_

Mallory-in-the-carchar spent far too much time savoring the memory of food. I skipped ahead to his return to the Tower.

_I had discovered that Anuion was quite good with Shadow, not nearly as good as I, but easily as good as any of my instructors. I wasn't certain what else he could do since he had been far too nervous to speak. I had fashioned a very simple twyllodrus, nothing compared to the ones I had seen Argellion make, but it should pass as Sharp Wits' body while we bore the Queen of Beasts away in the cart. It hadn't taken me long to find out the schedule of deliveries to the Tower nor to set a few of the servants napping. I was by no means impressed with Skeffington's successor, Sir John Brydges, the Tower was a sieve. This wasn't even going to be a challenge. I didn't particularly need Anuion either this was more a test than anything. I had considered bringing Taflu or the new Alltude who Lluniwer had delivered this morning, Ffyddlon( who from the look at him would make Gwyn appear brilliant) but I had decided that more than one unknown element at a time, even on fairly straightforward actions, would be sloppy. _

_The guard at the Lion Gate could barely be bothered to look up much less search. Even as I reflected that I probably could have gotten Jane out of the Tower if I had been no more than a dynol I seethed at the sloppiness. The government was unstable, Mary's coronation hadn't even happened yet, troth she hadn't even entered the city since she intended to do so with spectacle if not necessarily style. Skeffington had run the Tower tighter in days of stability than Brydges did now. Even in peace London was by no means a safe town. Lawlessness was rife; no man and few women went unarmed. If I was one of Mary's advisers I would have hard words indeed for the manner in which her most important prisoners were being kept. Which wasn't a bad idea, not telling her to improve security at the Tower, but ingratiating myself with Mary was an excellent thought. Mary had always been fond of young Tallyrand, as soon as Peregrine finished his long sail around Africa Lord Tallyrand would return in style with suitable gifts for his new queen. I watched Anuion out of the corner of my eye since the poor 'boy' (who was 47 years my elder but seemed so damnably innocent that I felt guilty even involving him in so simple an act as liberating a lioness) would likely go to pieces if I actually looked at him for more than a few seconds. _

"_Can you handle the barrels on your own?" I asked Anuion who instantly answered "Of course my prince."_

_I frowned, I had no problem with enthusiasm but I needed my Alltude to give me honest estimates of their abilities since I had no wish to get them into situations they couldn't handle and that given our 'non-human' status with the dynol could so easily turn deadly. Anuion cringed. I had no desire to undermine what confidence he had by second guessing him either. _

"_I'll be maintaining a Shadow here apparently assisting you while fetch Sharp Wits" a questioning look. I hadn't told him what we were here for. Cromwell had always been of the opinion that servants should know only what was necessary and nothing more and I had no reason to doubt that particular bit of wisdom. He didn't ask for clarification. I wasn't certain if that was a good or a bad thing. _

"_Hey, Sleepy" one of the guards hailed the young man approaching to take charge of the supplies we'd brought. I drew a deep breath, damn, William Foxley. Princes of Avalon do not blush or act guilty even when they are. Argellion had been teaching me to lull things to sleep and I had decided to have a bit of fun with Foxley because he had annoyed me that particular afternoon. It was supposed to be a slightly petty but fairly benign prank that would earn him a bit of ribbing but nothing more. I'd over done it. By the third day I was frantic and had confessed to Argellion hoping that he could break the enchanted sleep I'd put Foxley in. None of my instructors had had the least success. By the tenth day I was convinced I'd all but killed him and my relief had known no bounds when he woke fifteen days after I'd whistled a tune to him. As Argellion had impressed upon me afterward (as if the notion of putting some man permanently to sleep hadn't made the point), magic was a tool whose power must always be respected. Foxley, was never ever going to live his fortnight long nap down. _

"Not always so perfect, now were we?" Jack purred with a dangerous edge. I had the distinct impression that while there had been real affection between the brothers there had been a great deal of friction as well. Mallory's sense of duty and loathing of all things sloppy must have well and truly grated on Jack's free spirit. Jack's defection with Barbossa and his lashing out at Mallory back at San Juan de Ulua hadn't come out of nowhere. There was resentment bubbling under the surface. I absolutely believed that Jack was truly worried about Mallory and wanted to help but I could see in his eyes and hear in his voice that part of him liked seeing Mallory stumble and Jack's **wanting** changed things. What happened when he wanted two opposing things at the same time?

I swallowed and went back to reading.

_I spared a quick glance toward the Gentleman Gaoler's house and Jane before racing to the menagerie. I had the locks picked ere the lions even realized I was among them. Sharp Wits heaved herself to her feet and shambled out the door._

_(Take me with you) a very young lion I didn't know pled. _

_I wanted to, but what was I going to do with a young lion? Perhaps when Jane came to her senses and was willing to flee England we could reach an accord about transport to Africa._

_(I'm sorry but not now) I laid my hand on Sharp Wits' back lending her strength as I ordered the twyllodrus into the cage. It would act like an old tired lioness today and tomorrow and then appear to quietly expire. It would feel enough like a lion that no one would question it before tossing the body into the moat like all the other lions had been._

_The young lion snarled and for a moment I thought he was going to roar before flopping down dejectedly onto the flag stones to stare off into the distance. I wavered but I didn't have a second twyllodrus prepared and having two lions die at the same time especially when one was as healthy as he was would rouse suspicion. Hmm, those weren't the flagstones I remembered._

_As Sharp Wits and I walked back to the cart I asked about the changes in the structure (Some foolish two legs blew up half the tower. Falling stones killed Antelope Slayer and Never Free.)_

_Anuion nearly dropped the last barrel when he saw Sharp Wits beside me. With some of my strength powering her aging muscles she managed to leap into the cart. Anuion finished up, said his goodbyes to Foxley, and joined me on the seat. _

_We were out of the Tower before he finally very timidly asked "Are you certain it's safe?" _

_I grinned teasingly but couldn't quite get Anuion to meet my eyes "Well, she isn't a tame lioness and no Queen is ever safe."_

_Anuion didn't comment. Sharp Wits snorted from the back (He's more afraid of you than me.) _

_That was unfortunately entirely too true I passed him the reins and slipped into the back "Take us out of the city to the south east."_

_(Where are we going?)_

_(To the home of the cub I saved before I left. He has agreed to let you roam his park and forest. There are many deer. I know they aren't antelope but I thought you might enjoy a bit of hunting.)_

_She rubbed her head against my arm (Pride indeed). She licked her paws (What will you do about Looks Afar?)_

_(I don't know. If I release him they will only seek another to take his place. And I do not know what to do with him. It is clear that he does not know how to hunt. I can not keep him myself and I will be doing no one any favors if I merely set him at liberty here or back in Africa.)_

_(A thorny problem with no simple answer) she agreed._

_(What would you do?)_

_(Let him die free, even if it is by your own hand) she finally replied._

_Lovely, someone else I didn't want to kill to add to the list._

_(I will consider it) I said as I scratched her ears and prepared her for one final hunt while giving Anuion the occasional direction. _

_It was long past dark by the time we arrived after traveling since dawn. Henry was eagerly waiting for us though he was clearly surprised to see Anuion and I received questioning glance from both of them. Prometheus snorted and pranced uncertain about the scent of a lion. He had encountered the scent before years ago before I had given him to Henry when Blake (speaking of whom I needed to see how things were going in my stables) had ridden him about the Tower. With a few whispers I lulled him the same way I had the cart horses. _

_(What a wild pride wouldn't do to have you, Fleet Feet) Sharp Wits quipped as she jumped down off the cart and stalked forward toward Henry who held his ground though I could see fear and awe flutter through his enaid. He had seen lions before, of course, when he had gone to the Tower with his father but never outside of the Towers kennels which were so small that a lion could hardly turn in them. _

_He gave her an elegant but abbreviated bow from the saddle and in tones that reminded me very much of his father said "Your grace honors my humble home with your presence and I can but hope that we can provide suitable entertainment for the Queen of Beasts."_

_Sharp Wits gave him a very graceful and regal nod of acknowledgement (I can see why you like him) she said before lifting her nose to the wind. (A proper hunt requires that the King flush the prey) She looked at me expectantly. I sighed, I didn't like hunting defenseless prey. Henry frowned as usual picking up on my mood but, son of the aristocracy that he was, not comprehending why I would ever be reluctant to hunt, especially since I was so seasoned killer. I nodded to her and turned to Henry._

"_Stay here while Sharp Wits and I get into position." _

_I whirled away using Wind to find the herd as Sharp Wits crept forward to ambush the deer I was going to spook straight into her waiting claws. Best to just get it bloody over with at least Wind would enjoy making me sound like a lion. I bypassed the herd of hinds and calves. I shivered, no calves, not ever. There was a small herd of stags just on the edge of the wood, Sharp Wits could take her chances with them. I slipped silently through the trees staying upwind until I was in the perfect position to drive them straight into Sharp Wits' hiding place. As I had Wind mimic the sound of a roaring lion I also lit the forest and the park up to the edge of the road and used flame to send the hinds with their calves into the depths of the forest. The small group of stags fled for the dark shadows in which Henry, Anuion, and Sharp Wits waited. I followed the deer fleet enough of foot that I had no difficulty staying behind them. Sharp Wits broke cover just before we reached the edge of the light and the stags wheeled left in panic. Despite the years of inactivity she deftly cut the eldest from the herd. The aging Prince of the Forest roared a challenge of his own to the ancient Queen of Beasts. If I had been Sharp Wits I would not have picked a 'switch' stag. They were killers, usually wily old males past their primes whose antlers no longer formed proper tines leaving them with heavy, sharp spikes with which they could impale their younger opponents. She crouched in front of him and growled, ears back, great fangs bared. He lowered his head presenting her with his spikes. He charged forward and she sprang back. With her muscles weakened by age and long confinement she narrowly avoided being lanced. He barked at her mockingly and advanced again. She tried to circle round to flank him but the old Prince was no fool and he stayed with her. There was no question of who would tire first. Normally she would have a sister to support her and I wondered if she expected me to leap on his back. As she feinted left I let out another roar, I was pride after all. The stag, startled, made the fatal mistake of raising his head and in a flash she was on his throat but her grip was not as strong as it had once been or red deer were stronger than antelopes because the stag wrenched himself free. She lunged again but he managed to bring his head round even faster and he dealt her a glancing blow. Both bloodied they circled on another warily each looking for an advantage. In the end the stag's nerve broke and he made a dash for the trees but she put on a burst of speed with a great leap she landed on his back and bore him to the ground. Again he proved stronger than she could master and he brought his head round just enough for a solid hit on her flank but she refused to quit and with his life's blood flowing down his neck he also crumpled. Growling she clamped her jaws around his throat and died. Free at last._

"_Good hunting" I whispered to the lioness and had the earth take them together into her embrace. Troth, Sharp Wits would probably have preferred to feed the vultures but I didn't want there to be any evidence of a lioness on the surface. I gave Henry and Anuion a moment to digest things and then reduced the circle of light to enclose just the three of us. I suspected that Henry was keen to ask why I didn't care for hunting and I was in no mood to discuss the twin sister I had left to die._

"_Anuion" I said letting the Draig rise in my voice and holding out my hand "Would you consent to be llwgwas?"_

_He dropped instantly on one knee "I am not worthy to rise so high" he protested._

"_We have judge thee worthy would you gainsay your liege?" I said and slit both our palms as he took the Blood oath. This oath could not be forced even by a King and a Gorchymyn nor could it be broken, by either of us. He was mine, in life and death. I sealed the wounds with a thought and turned to Henry._

"_Anuion, this is my brawdmaeth, he known as Thomas Norrington." To Henry's confusion Anuion bowed to him as well._

"_Brawdmaeth?" _

_I frowned, there was not perfect translation "Foster brother" I finally settled on "To be accorded the same protection and obedience from my llwgwas that I would receive myself. Should anything happen to me he will be your bound servant for as long as you live. To protect you and yours with his life's blood if necessary."_

_That stopped Henry cold "And why would anything happen to you Rhys?"_

_I swallowed I **could**, and **would** trust Henry and Anuion was no longer capable of betrayal. "I suspect that Jane might be entertaining the notion of becoming a martyr," there was a lie by gross understatement Jane was half-way in love with the prospect despite everything I could do to distract her "should Mary choose to have her executed."_

_I paused. _

"_Surely you wouldn't do yourself harm" Henry scoffed lightly but there was worry in his enaid._

"_Never! But we have" I paused again at a loss for words "become linked somehow, magically. I do not know what her death would do to me."_

_Anuion went a very unpleasant shade of gray._

"_Sweet Jesus, Rhys" Henry rarely swore and his outburst surprised me "then break it for the love of God."_

"_I don't know how" I whispered back. Henry whirled on Anuion who shook his head "I was raised a Changeling myself and have no experience with this. You must speak of this to Lluniwer, my prince, immediately." He begged "If anything should happen to the girl…" His voice trailed off "Lluniwer was once an Udd. Of all of us he would be the most likely to know the proper course of action."_

_I would sooner stick my head on the block I thought but did not say it. _

_Henry shook me "Damn it Rhys don't be a stubborn fool. Don't let her **kill** you. Drag her out of the damn Tower and **go**!"_

"_I'll think of something." I promised him and he cursed a blue streak using language that would have made Skeffington blush. I never would have dreamed he had it in him._

"_You had better" he spat at me finally before pulling me into a fierce hug "I will never forgive you if you get your fool self killed from some daft notion of chivalry."_

"_That might be the least of our worries" Anuion whispered too quietly for dynol ears to hear._

_**Historical Notes:** In 1546 William Foxley who was a potmaker for the Royal Mint in the Tower did indeed, according to history, fall asleep for 15 nights and 14 days in spite of blows, pinches, and burning in attempts to wake him. The King's own physicians were called in to review the case. Apparently he woke feeling quite refreshed (though undoubtedly wondering about the burns and bruises!!) and lived for another 40 years in service of the Mint. I couldn't resist making it Mallory's fault. In 1548 there was an accident with ordnance that severely damaged the Lion Tower but I no idea if any of the Tower lions were injured. Another Tower tidbit that belongs more in A Prince of Avalon than here but that I forgot to mention, several Tower prisoners through the centuries who were ordered all but starved to death credited their miraculous survivals to the Tower cats bringing them prey. I suspect that they were using the cats to cover for guards who couldn't leave their fellow man to starve but who knows maybe the Tower cats do have a tradition of taking pity on the prisoners…._

29


	29. Unexpected Guests

**Author's Notes: First and foremost a thank you to all my reviewers (since I accidentally posted the wrong version last time then the site was in one its moods and wouldn't let me switch). I've put my replies from the last two chapters at the bottom of this one.**

**Mallory's mellith spell is a mutilated version of Charlie Zahm's song Lighthouse on the Shore. It is used completely without permission but if you happen to like music from 1700-1800's I suggest checking out his website ( He has a great voice!) Neidr's 2nd**** song is actually one written by Robert Burn's in the late 1700's I couldn't find one from the Elizabethan period I thought fit. His first little ditty is also swiped from Charlie.**

**This is turning into the never ending chapter in the never ending story and has a part D to go….**

**Chapter 16: Comes a Dragon: Part C: Unexpected Guests**

_I could tell Henry wanted to interrogate me about Jane and my currently non-existent plans while I wanted to grill Anuion about what that comment of __**his**__ meant. Why the bloody hell had I ever broached this topic with either of them? With anyone? I was a bloody Prince of Avalon and I took care of myself. Part of that was never, ever giving anyone an advantage over you. All I had done was given them leverage. Except Henry wouldn't use it and Anuion couldn't and likely wouldn't have even wanted to. But how did it help? What did I expect __**Henry**__ to do? What was __**he**__ going to tell __**me**__ about magic? All I had done was give him something to fret about. I should have kept my damn fool mouth __**SHUT!**__ I had been selfish. Oh, I could twist it and say that if I vanished after Jane's death he would at least know why but the truth was I was frightened. I was a Prince of Avalon not some sniveling girl (even if one had invaded my thoughts, granted I had thrown open the gates, and taken up residence) who needed her delicate little hand held. I had no business laying my problems at Henry's door. I wanted Argellion, I __**needed**__ Argellion. If I had been capable of weeping I think I would have. If I had thought Wind could reach him in Avalon I would have sent for him, begged for him, if necessary. I had well, truly, and utterly gotten myself in over my head this time and I was floundering. Why else would I have said anything to anyone? Perhaps if I could just get a few thoughts clear of Jane's constant background prattle, if only the benighted girl would go to sleep and leave me in peace. Except then I would simply see all her dreams which would inevitably be about religion. Jane had always been profoundly religious but her captivity was rapidly driving her to whole new heights of ardency. Dangerous ground indeed when Mary was preparing a counter-reformation. We were both going to __**die,**__ one way or the other. And while Jane was nearly eager I had no desire to become an unwilling martyr to the protestant cause. God, would she never shut up?!_

I paused, staring at the page and then throwing a questioning glance at Jack. Mallory kept saying that Jane was constantly there but not even a whisper of her came through on the page. He frowned and shrugged. So he didn't hear her either. Strange, Mallory was in a rambling near panic. It wasn't often that Mallory was afraid for himself either. Oh, he had been deeply afraid of Skeffington but otherwise he seemed to worry about everyone **but** himself. The whole thing seemed odd, and a bit out of character, but perhaps _that_ was Jane's influence making itself felt.

"_You __**will**__ be staying the rest of the night, won't you?" Henry didn't sound inclined to take no for an answer. Tough. I restrained a snarl as the pride that __should__ have kept me from making this blunder to begin with belatedly reared its scaly head and nearly faltered as my heart quailed. Sweet Jesus, what was wrong with me? I used the pride as a shield and spat._

"_My estates require my attention. I will be flying there posthaste while Anuion follows with the cart." I needed away from here, needed away from everyone especially the one person I no longer seemed to be able to escape. _

_Henry's mouth twisted into a frown and I could tell I had disappointed him but he knew me entirely too well and didn't attempt to stop me as I launched myself into the air while ignoring the voice in my head that said magic was the devil's work. _

_I landed in the darkest hour of the night after moonset but long before first light startling One Ear. _

_The tom cat gave me a scathing glance. He stalked over to a bare patch of earth, rolled, and in spite of my warning growl and with tail held high like a banner he proceeded to rub grit onto my hose. It is a sad state of affairs indeed when one can command respect from the Queen of Beasts but not an overweight tabby. Every grain of sand sang me a song of welcome and to the cat's annoyance I didn't fuss about the mess, sloppy though it was because for the first time in days I could draw a nearly free breath. I loved being with Sea and Peregrine, I loved discovering new places, but there were few pleasures to compare to that of truly coming home. Oh, I had lived most of my life in the Tower and had rarely set foot here but this was home just the same. There was too much blood, to much horror soaked into the Towers stones for it to ever be the refuge this was. I could feel the Old Blood servants tucked contentedly in their beds at peace in proper service to (they thought) a Rigion. But the deception didn't matter because the Blood would assure them that they were in service to a proper lord, that the service they gave was RIGHT. And the Blood gave the same assurance to me. This was the world as it was meant to be, with the exception of the cat who was continuing to besmirch my hose. I entertained the thought of kicking him all the way to the stable doors but that would mar the peace that was saturating me from the soles of my feet to the top of my troubled head so I settled for asking (Have I in some way offended thee?)_

_The cat rewarded me with a golden glare but Earth had put me in an indulgent mood. _

_(Has the hunting been good of late?) I inquired conversationally. _

_One of the Old Blood babes fussed hungrily and as the cat groomed himself in miffed silence I listened to Sarah suckling her youngest while singing softly to him. It abruptly seemed comforting and familiar which was ridiculous, no one had ever cradled me and I never cried. That must be Jane seeping back through again. Or was it? Certainly some Old Blood woman had been wet nurse to my sister and I and just because I couldn't remember her didn't mean that before the horror of the angheuol and Skeffington's tender mercies I hadn't known love. Perhaps that was why I had been so drawn to Milady Latimer. Maybe the enaid had remembered what the mind hadn't. I tried to reach back into the misty depths of my memory suddenly wanting to remember the woman I had never even thought of before's face but there was nothing but the hint of a scent. I shook off the idea as a futile bit of foolishness and glanced back down at the tom. _

_Cats could be so….cat-like oh, there was a bloody brilliant observation on my part. Since I was in no mood to play court to a fickle feline I walked past him into the stable. The barn owl started to swoop out but recognized me and settled back onto one of the rafters. I offered her an arm and she settled lightly her wicked talons not even leaving an impression in my silk doublet. I pulled a feather from my purse and began to stroke her with it as I made my way from stall to stall. The adult horses nickered soft welcomes which I answered in kind as I introduced myself those foaled more recently with every step feeling reassurance from every side._

_By the time I had visited all the stalls, paddocks, and pastures the first light of day was brushing itself against the sky. I was tired but in a much less agitated state of mind by the time the barn owl went to find her roost. I was the Prince of Avalon. I had no need of council from Argellion, Anuion, or Lluniwer. I shook my head, to think that I had let myself become so unnerved by some old hedge-witch's prophecy. By this time next year Henry and I would be laughing about what a fool I'd been. With a spring in my step I went looking for Blake so he could give me a full report on the stable. _

_I was tempted for a moment to lean against the fence as I watched him work with a lovely chestnut yearling but poor posture was sloppy and you never, ever revealed that you were weary, even if you were all but asleep on your feet. While my renewed self-confidence hadn't faltered my body had pointed out that I had had very little sleep and had done a great deal of magic of late. I told it it could sleep when I was dead. The filly had good conformation and a willing heart. Not fiery enough for my tastes but she would certainly make a very fine broodmare in a few more years when she got her full growth. He nearly dropped the lounge line when he spotted me but recovered and gave a polite nod when I waved that he should continue. He put the filly through her paces for another quarter hour before turning her loose in the pasture and facing me warily. _

_Had he always looked at me that way? Yes, and so had all of my other servants. Not with the terror that Skeffington had inspired in his own but certainly not with the love Milady Latimer had held either. When I had left it hadn't mattered that my servants all feared me a little. On the contrary I had thought it completely right and appropriate, after all it is better to be feared than loved, or so I had been told. After several years away I now found myself vaguely uncomfortable with the notion but wasn't certain if I could or should correct it. I knew I had respect and loyalty but none of them liked me and I certainly hadn't made myself likable. _

"_Milord Tallyrand" he gave me a proper bow "Welcome home. You have been missed."_

_No, I hadn't been, not really, nor was Blake eager to have me breathing down his neck again and he was worried. Interesting, very interesting._

"_You have done well" I replied nodding to the stables "and surpassed my expectations."_

_Blake nearly stumbled midstride in surprise. I didn't give compliments to my servants. I paid well, I was fair, and they all certainly knew that there were penalties to be paid for failing me but I didn't give simple 'well done's. Servants did what they were paid for end of story. I was nearly as surprised as Blake. I hadn't thought before speaking, I shivered, sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. I could afford that sort of thing (within reason) when I was off wandering the world. I could always blame it on not understanding the language and I hadn't really planned on settling in most of the places I'd visited so if I said something awkward I could simply leave (not that I actually HAD been so unforgivably sloppy, mind you). That was not the case here. I was back for the foreseeable future and more lives than my own depended on my weighing every word. Blake positively beamed at me. Well, perhaps I should give complements, not often, I wanted them to have impact when I did but it probably wouldn't hurt to be a bit nicer._

"If ye were smart enough te puzzle that out at twenty" Jack interrupted "Why on the Sea did ye go back te being a fair but generally unpleasant chap at a hundred and fifty?" He sounded a bit less resentful and more puzzled this time before waving to me "Read faster whelp, day's catching up te us and time waits fer neither man nor Ellyllon." I decided to linger over this just a little longer though bone deep certain that this man was one of my forefathers who until a few days ago I'd know precious little about.

_I followed Blake around the stables even though I'd already made my own sweep through listening to him detail several years of births, deaths, sales, and purchases. Things were clearly going well and from the prices quoted for the culls so was the reputation of my stables. Excellent. Since my estates were too small to support the large scale enclosures that were becoming popular (and I wasn't overly fond of sheep or wool. Nasty hair chewing beasts. Now alpacas were a completely different story. I had nearly as much of their wool as silk aboard Peregrine and Mary wasn't going to get a single thread of __**that**__. Pity I hadn't thought to bring a few back with me though I would have never heard the end of it from Peregrine and I certainly had no desire to clean up after them indefinitely. That's what stable boys were for) and they were never going to grow enough wheat both to feed the servants, the peasants, and cover my expenses at court so getting top coin for the horses I chose to part with (not that this place would ever really cover my court expenses but it at least had to bring in enough that people would think it __**might**__) was essential. _

_Blake froze in front of me his enaid a swirl of dismay. Curiosity pricked I turned to watch his twelve year old son working with a gorgeous young colt. His coat was a rich, dark brown that reminded me of the best chocolate lightly dappled with paler rings; his mane and tail were a perfect pale flaxen counterpoint. He was a bit young to judge but his conformation looked good so far. All in all a fine animal so why did Blake look like a man caught stealing the king's gold?_

"_Oh Matty" he breathed "I told you to kill that colt." This time I studied the foal's eyes and nearly cursed. What a damn shame! That blasted eye problem back to haunt us. After my ride back from fighting the mardeth with several broken bones I'd vowed to breed horses with soother gaits. I'd acquired several promising mares and a stallion to add to our stock. Two of the first foals had gone blind in spite of every trick I could think of. Something was wrong in the very fabric of them and my healing magic was useless against it. Concerned for the entire bloodline I'd had the stallion gelded, the two mares culled, and had killed the little blind fillies myself. I'd left orders for same to be done if any more appeared in my absence._

_Blake took a deep breath and faced me like a man going to his execution "The stallion was gelded, the mare culled. The boy begged te finish off the colt himself."_

_Blake had damn well __**known**__ the boy wouldn't do it, nor would he have put such a burden on the boy. Blake wasn't my grandsire, not by an extremely long mile. I noted that the colt was at least gelded. I think I was more annoyed that Blake was trying to fob the blame off on his son than I was that they hadn't killed the colt. Matty was shaking with fear._

"_Bring him here."_

"_Please don't kill Mahogany."_

_Silly name, the colt was far darker, but then Matty had probably never seen real mahogany. Sweet Christ what a waste of an otherwise perfect animal!! Except his eyes weren't nearly as bad as the fillies. His pupils reacted to light and the iris wasn't as badly malformed. He could definitely see. He playfully pranced, tossing his beautiful dish faced head. Gelded there was no chance of him inadvertently passing on the condition as the fillies might have if I had let them live. He wasn't blind yet and I suspected that he wasn't going to go blind either. The malformed iris was unsightly (no pun intended) but I didn't think it was impairing his vision. The boy was as gifted with horses as his father. They had probably both instinctively known as well as I did that while the colt shouldn't be bred there was no reason to kill him. It had been the right decision for the horse but they had defied me. I felt the Draig's rage stirring, wanting to fatally punish them for the presumption. I brushed it aside. I had placed Blake over my stables for a reason and killing him because he'd allowed his son to talk him into making a poor choice was ridiculous. The boy was fretting over the colt's fate while his father was terrified for his place and his family's future and was undoubtedly heartily wishing he had never let himself be talked into letting the colt live._

_Matty sent an imploring glance to his father and for the first time realized that more than the horse might be in danger from my return._

"_Da didn't know I hadn't killed the colt" Matty was a very bad liar. Skeffington would have beaten him to a pulp just for making so transparent an effort to cover his father's transgression. I wasn't Skeffington but I still couldn't let them get away with this. I had no desire to dismiss them. I should force them to kill the colt. If nothing else his blemished eyes were a black mark against the quality of my blood stock at a most inconvenient time. I could always put a Shadow over them though. If I let them keep the colt before the Wind could cross the meadow the whole bleeding estate would know I'd gone soft. He nudged me with his velvet muzzle and I knew I'd lost. With a flick of my fingers Shadow covered the misshapen eyes and I offered him a treat while introducing myself. I sidestepped Matty's enthusiastic attempt to embrace me leaving the boy to go sprawling. I never would have been able to maintain the façade that I was a twenty year old dynol if he had actually made contact._

"_Matthew Blake!" his father roared, utterly aghast. He hauled the boy up and boxed his ears. "I'll give him a sound thrashing, milord. The lad forgot his place in his excitement. I'll see that he never forgets it again"_

"_See that you do" I snapped at my frostiest. If I had been the real Lord Tallyrand perhaps I could have afforded to be as kind as Milady Latimer but I wasn't. No one must __**ever**__ be comfortable enough in my presence to embrace me, __**never, Never, EVER.**__ I looked at the colt. I should kill him to drive the point home. I should but I didn't have the heart to slit his trusting throat so I pivoted on my heel and headed for the main house leaving Matty to his lecture and beating. _

_Once clear of the stables I sighed and certain that there was no one to see Lord Tallyrand vanish covered myself completely in Shadow for a bit of privacy. I leaned against one of the fences. I didn't want the boy thrashed any more than I wanted to kill the colt. Not killing the colt was probably a mistake and I had been DAMN sloppy for ever letting things go so far that the boy even dreamed he could touch me. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy and young Matty would pay the price for it. God what was wrong with me? I was __**better**__ than this. I __**had**__ to be because sloppy didn't just get you killed it could get everyone around you slaughtered too. I glanced up at the flutter of wings and twitched my hand away before a particularly saucy descendent of my original sparrow could peck it. The little fellow regarded me with one beady black eye and demanded seeds. When they weren't forthcoming since I had none with me he proceeded to riffle my pockets. Brazen little thief. I offered the scallywag my finger as a perch and went off in search of breakfast for us both. If I was going to go soft I might as well make a clean sweep of it._

I wondered if Matty was my grandfather's grandfather or his great uncle either way this was my family. I glance up to find Jack giving me a look that managed to be simultaneously exasperated and understanding which was a pretty good trick. I flipped several pages ahead before he said anything.

_I gave Queen Mary a low sweeping bow._

"_Rise, good sir" the smile soften the edges of her less than feminine jaw "Thou hast been long away young Lord, and we have missed thee." No lie there but then Mary had been much of a dissembler and was an __**extremely**__ bad liar which was part of the reason she had been so battered during her father and brother's reigns. She wouldn't compromise her principles, not an inch. I didn't know if I should respect her or pity the foolish woman. "Word is that thou hast sailed far indeed and we wouldst hear word of thy adventures."_

"_My Queen does me too much honor and I know that her time is precious and so I have brought a few humble gifts as a meager recompense" I waved the extremely nervous Anuion forward. He had tried to talk me into bringing Lluniwer instead since he would know how to comport himself at court but I didn't want Lluniwer anywhere near powerful men that he make alliances with, besides I needed a right hand and once he learned the workings of the court Anuion would do excellently. "First silk from Cathay" the color of those particular bolts would match Mary's coloring far better than my own. _

"_Second, gold from Elmina" I would miss the finely made lions but given the royal preoccupation with lions they would be more useful as gifts than sitting in my library on the Peregrine. The one that I taken to wearing complained at being parted from me. I hoped Mary didn't melt him down now that he was 'awake'. It was a little disconcerting how objects that stayed in contact with me for any length of time became progressively more aware and eventually if allowed to do so developed full personalities. The ivory and gold bracelet & necklace had originally been purchased for Gran (provided I ever saw her again) but I needed to overwhelm Mary and I hadn't exactly been collecting large quantities of gifts worthy of royalty on my trip, which had been decidedly shortsighted of me. _

"_Third, nutmeg and cloves from the Spice Islands" Anuion, was slowly becoming a bit less tense as he managed not to fumble the presentations and the court began to buzz a bit as the worth of items be presented became clear. The inside of my head itched when Ambassador Simon Renard opened the coffer. I had thought my reaction to cloves was because I was Ellyllon but none of the others experienced the reaction. I had Wind keep the air around me as clear of their scent as possible as Renard poked around the box's interior. Renard was, bar none, the most dangerous person in the court to my plans. A fox in name and a fox indeed, from the red of his pointed beard to the cunning in his brown eyes and this fox had the hen well in hand. Mary might be a Tudor in name but she was a Hapsburg at heart. It was Renard who had her ear more than any other and Renard wanted both Jane and Bess dead to ensure Hapsburg power. I should kill him. Should have killed him weeks ago but despite my belief that just walking into court would have me taking up the dagger again I felt a great reluctance to kill. I had taken to wearing and practicing with my 'toys' but I had no desire to 'sheath' them in living flesh. _

"_Fourth, rubies and sapphires from Siam" I had collected these because their hue's were so different from the ones I had made heretofore, now that I had puzzled out how to make sapphires in every shade of the rainbow I had no need of them. _

"_Fifth, tea from Cathay" tea seemed to help dynol clear their heads in the morning, but it sent me promptly to sleep. _

"_Sixth, scents from India."_

"_Seventh, a diamond from the Cape of Good Hope" this was the crowning piece, a radiant gem bigger than my fist that was nearly flawless. The court gave a gasp as the jaded courtiers calculated the worth of so rare and perfect a stone. The stone alone was worth more than all of my small estates combined. Mary had to use both hands to cup it while Renard gave me a guarded glare._

"_And what boon will you ask of her Majesty for your generosity?"_

_I blinked at him the picture of wounded innocence "None but what any subject may expect of a gracious and merciful sovereign. Princess Mary was always kind to me why should I not return from my travels with gifts worthy of her to celebrate her triumph?"_

"_Why, indeed, should the protégé of Thomas Cromwell, despoiler of the Mother Church, and ward of the Catherine Parr, ardent Protestant, be pleased to see a Catholic on the throne?"_

_Damn, Renard had been more thorough than I had thought, Lord Tallyrand was barely worthy to be received and certainly didn't merit any real scrutiny. Mary's eyes sharpened on me. _

"_Paul admonishes good Christians to obey the law of the land and all men know that God sets princes and nations in their places. I am but a loyal servant and to decide the will of God is above my humble station. If it pleases the King of Kings to remove Protestant King Edward in his dewy youth to restore this nation to the bosom of Rome who am I to gainsay? Nor was I always Cromwell's willing tool. I give these gifts in the name of Pole, friends that both my Queen and I lost to Cromwell's excesses, and I know that the Countess of Salisbury rejoices to see the girl she loved as a daughter now raised from the depths of despair to the highest seat in the land. It was not by my own choosing that I was delivered as little more than a suckling babe into his hands."_

_If nothing else, Mary had a long memory. Oh, she was far more merciful and forgiving than I would ever be, but she never forgot a friend any more than I would. Mary had ordered the Tower turned upside down looking for Henry Pole, not that there was anything or anyone left to tell her what had happened. I had covered my tracks thoroughly and well. It was a masterful riposte to Renard's attack for it was well known that I had been severely disciplined by Skeffington for failing to betray the Pole's to their deaths. Instead of Mary regarding me with the suspicion that he had been trying to elicit by dredging up my past I now had Mary's sympathies, we had both lost and suffered unjustly._

"_And your association with Lady Parr?"_

_Mary raised a hand silencing us both ere I could reply "Peace Simon, I will hear no ill of the Dowager Queen nor of the boy for loving her" but her look remained troubled "But we could wish, young friend, that thy adherence to the true Church was a thing of the heart."_

"_I fear, my Queen, that like all my generation, I have been raised in the Protestant faith, I acknowledge that God hath set thee in thy place and that it follows that He doth favor the Church of Rome but were I to plead true and __**heartfelt**__ devotion thou wouldst not believe it. I can but swear that I shall serve thee faithfully."_

"_And we do gratefully accept both thy fealty and thy gifts. Thou shalt attend to me on the marrow and tell all." I bowed low. Renard would do all that he could to keep me at a distance from Mary and troth Mary still saw me as a winsome child which would both make her inclined to do me small favors and disinclined to take me seriously. As I took my leave of her women I palmed them small but valuable gifts. Renard had already complained of Mary's inability to deny her women anything and I intended to make full use of it as I charmed my way out of the room. I paid particular attention to Mary's fool Jane with whom I had had a good rapport before and who was overjoyed with the small gifts I had purchased with her in mind on my travels. _

_Once clear of the Presence Chamber I turned to Anuion. "I see you survived" I observed dryly. Anuion ducked his head refusing, as always to meet my eyes. I sighed of the Alltude Anuion was the only one that I had the least interest in cultivating as more than a tool and he steadfastly refused the slightest of overtures. Oh, he was eager to please and I would wager that he'd lay down his life for me in a heartbeat but he kept a wall far more impenetrable than any in the Tower between us. Damn shame since he was the only other Changeling I'd ever met and far closer to my own age than any of the others. Princes weren't supposed to have friends I reminded myself. And look at all the troubles my friendships with Henry and Jane had landed me in. It wasn't worth the price I told myself very firmly but I wished that Anuion would meet my eyes all the same. I had discovered that while Anuion's magical education was even more lacking than my own he knew far more of our people's history and one of my instructors must have briefed him because he knew nearly as much about my abilities as I did. Including that I had the potential to be a necromancer. He begged me daily to speak to Lluniwer and told some chilling tales of my grandfather's grandfather, Brenin Arawn, the Grey Ellyllon, King of Death and Time. Anuion freely confessed that he knew nothing workings of the magic but much of the history of the necromancers of House Penthalion. He believed that Jane would take me with her in death but that my native gifts would not permit me to remain. The question was, in what manner would I return? Anuion was terrified that I would become another Grey Ellyllon. It was a sobering concept and I had spent a great deal of time considering how I might elude such a fate if something should happen to Jane. Just as I was trying to think a new approach to both problems the Wind bore me Lluniwer's voice._

_(My prince we have a problem. Meet me outside the townhouse.) _

_I left a terrified Anuion behind to cover for my absence and took to the air. A few minutes later I landed silently behind Lluniwer pleased that I was barely out of breath. I was getting better at flying, at least over short distances. _

"_What is amiss?" I whispered stifling a grin as he nearly jumped out of his skin. He glared at me from his full impressive height before flicking the fingers of his healed hand toward the house._

"_We have a visitor, from Avalon."_

_Well, that was…interesting. Very interesting._

"_Any idea who?"_

"_Neidr ap Unben, a pennaeth of House Lofrudd."_

"_What does Taflu have to say about him?"_

"_The same thing I do, my liege, he is aptly named. Be wary. He is the Udd's only son, undoubtedly he will tell you he is on his Taith and wishes to meet the heir. " Lluniwer didn't bother to say that he was either a spy or an assassin. He didn't need to._

_Neidr, the asp, so my home had been invaded by a snake. I grinned time to test a viper's tolerance for 'poison' and to see if a serpent could hold its ground before a Draig. _

_He had made himself quite comfortable in my library. He shared Taflu's silver hair but was taller and more hansom with a sharp straight nose, high cheekbones, a slightly pointed chin, and arresting carmine eyes. The bulk of his enaid was pale blue-violet but shot through with angry red flashes that matched his eyes. Striking and aesthetically pleasing. He appeared to be about twenty-five, if he had been a dynol, so I would guess that he was close to two hundred given the strength of his enaid which was comparable to Mannwan's but I was already stronger as a mere 'infant' of twenty. I watched as he riffled through the papers on my desk. He was quite fortunate that I was here to remove the wards before he could injure himself. I finally cleared my throat and when he looked up I allowed my Shadow to thin enough for him to see me sitting at the desk with my feet up and arms behind my head. It was a sloppy posture but it conveyed the message I wanted it to – that this was my territory and he wasn't even worth bothering with. _

"_Can I help you find anything, Neidr?"_

_He blinked, surprised that I knew his name and green enough to let it show. He bowed low, "Your pardon, my Prince. I was not aware that you were in."_

"_Clearly" I swung my feet down off the desk and set my elbows on it instead with my fingers steepled "So what were you looking for?"_

_He flushed. No one from any court dynol or Ellyllon was THIS green, did he think I was this easy to play? _

"_I was trying to find out what interested you so that when I formally presentedmyself I could have a proper gift ready. You've been away a long time"_

_I arched a brow, a little over four years was nothing as Ellyllon reckoned things. If he was going to lie he could at least make an effort to do it well. I abhorred sloppiness even in my enemies. But then Ellyllon couldn't lie to Ellyllon according to popular belief, evade, mislead, misdirect but not bold faced lie so why was he even trying?_

"_And there was concern for you at the court" he bowed low "so I came to see that you were well. I thought perhaps since tradition demanded that I journey amongst these" his lip curled "these animals we could provide each other with a little more…refined company." _

_That at least was the truth as far as it went. He was quite unhappy and was more than a little frightened not to mention embarrassed at being caught. It did not, I noted, translate into proper deference for my rank. No Ellyllon had __**EVER**__ been so…casual with me. I wasn't certain if the lack of ceremony was worrisome or refreshing. _

"_It was known that you had left the Gartref, but not where in the Outlands you had wandered."_

"_I was on a circumnavigation."_

_His jaw dropped open "You sailed around the world?"_

"_That is what the term means" I returned dryly._

"_But you should have fallen off the World's End."_

_I rolled my eyes "There is no World's End." I picked up an apple out of the small basket of fruit that one of the servants insisted on leaving in here and said very slowly "Round, the world is __**round**__."_

_Neidr clearly didn't believe me. His problem. Of all the outlandish things, to still believe the world was flat, clearly Avalon was behind the times. Honestly Magellan's crew had completed a circumnavigation decades ago. I wove a pair of cups, called water out of the air, heated it with a pass of my hands, and went to a little coffer in which I kept a small quantity of chocolate since I had no intention of revealing to location of my larger stash. I crafted spoons as I stirred the pale liquid. I wanted him tipsy not completely out of his head. I leaned back waving to the black porcelain cups (it had taken me months to perfect weaving porcelain. Neidr was clearly impressed but trying not to show it) "Would you care to join me?"_

_His slender hands hesitated afraid I meant to poison him. The fact that I had given him his choice of drinks did little to assuage his fears. He finally settled on one and then watched me pick up my own like a hawk. _

"_The natives of Mexico believe it is sacred" I said before taking a sip. Using my healing talents I sequestered the chocolate keeping it from actually being absorbed. I would indulge later at a safer location. Now Neidr had to drink or insult his prince. He drank. It was fascinating as a healer to watch the effects on another. The pupils immediately relaxed and widened becoming rounder, not quite dynol round but close. The enaid brightened for a moment and then softened, sharp edges blurring and a gentle flutter replaced the violent flash as the red faded to rosy pink (which didn't suit his eyes nearly as well). He didn't just relax in the chair he melted into it with a sound I wasn't certain if I should call a gasp of euphoria or a whimper of release. Interesting. I swiftly mimicked the effect since I clearly remembered every embarrassing moment of my three months in a haze and I didn't want Neidr to know that I wasn't (currently) affected. He just breathed slowly for several minutes before taking a much larger gulp. _

"_Gently" I admonished "Too much, too quickly can kill."_

_Several seconds of silence and then in El'lan instead of the English we had been speaking "But what a glorious death it would be."_

"_But death all the same" I replied and shivered. I had no desire to taunt death despite the fact that that seemed to be exactly what I was doing. _

"_There are worse fates than death" he whispered as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head._

_By the Draigs, __**another**__ one, Jane was bad enough. She wanted to be a martyr but that wasn't what I was getting from Neidr. I had wanted him relaxed and uninhibited so that I could ascertain his true motives but I was growing progressively more concerned. Desperate. I decided recalling my first views of his enaid and the differences now in his altered state. The boy was desperate and he was a boy regardless of the fact that he was at least 150 years my elder. Why was he desperate? And more pressingly, what was he going to do about it? For there are few things more dangerous than a man (or Ellyllon) who believed he had nothing left to lose. I let him bask in the glow for a while before asking, "Why are you here?"_

"_**They**__ sent me to spy on you" he said in a slightly lilting way. I hoped for his sake he didn't start singing to the spiders. _

"_They who?" I set my cup down barely touched._

"_Our fathers" he whispered before he started to cry. Actually cry wasn't the right term, sob? Wail? Keen? Whatever, regardless, this was one very upset Ellyllon. Odd, I wasn't __**capable**__ of being upset when I drank chocolate. I passed him one of my red silk handkerchiefs which seemed to exist purely to be given away (except when I was in the presence of cloves when my nose suddenly became a flood gate) but he couldn't even manage to hang onto it. I rose and crossed to him, ignoring the protests of the warier part of my nature that warned me to keep my distance and took a page from Mrs. Ellen's book as I did my best to calm him back down as he rocked himself in the chair. So much for the asp. I let out a most undignified squeak when he suddenly kissed me before shoving him away hard. He blinked at me sniffling from the shattered desk and chair. I had been a bit too forceful and Neidr was going to be sporting some nasty bruises later. I was leery of healing him since his reactions weren't the same as my own and I wasn't certain that I wouldn't pick up his if I came into magical contact with him._

"_You aren't a girl" he sounded both confused and petulant. _

"_No, decidedly, definitely, unquestionably, and most emphatically NOT a girl." I passed him the handkerchief again. _

"_Need a girl" he muttered into it while blowing his nose. He ran a hand over his face and then smoothed his hair and clothes before setting off out of the room. This was a distinctly unexpected development. I had no trouble getting ahead of him though I did have to wrap several of the servant girls in Shadow to keep them from being summarily ravaged. So, where was the nearest bordello? Ah, yes, while I was far too young to have any interests in such, one did occasionally need to provide an evening with a courtesan to keep certain courtiers willing to meet with one. It took a bit of doing but I did manage to keep him moving in the correct direction with continued promises of willing females. I certainly hadn't reacted this way but then I was too young to react this way. Hmmm, I would just have to slip some chocolate to one of the Alltude to see if this was specific to Neidr or common to all adult Ellyllon. If it was the latter I made a mental note to NEVER, EVER indulge in chocolate once I reached puberty. I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally reached the house of ill repute only to have Neidr summarily jump the girl who opened the door. She made a little 'ommph' of protest and then something absolutely fascinating occurred. __**Her**__ enaid changed to echo the alterations in __**his**__ and they were suddenly all over each other in a snowstorm of shredding fabric. Fortunately she hadn't been wearing overmuch to begin with. My but Neidr's attitude toward the dynol seemed to have abruptly changed but then I probably could have put a sheep in front of him at this point. The Madame cleared her throat pointedly behind me._

"_Young Lord Tallyrand, I assume you will be paying for your companion's sport" it wasn't a question and it was only fair considering I had more or less gotten him into this state. I caught the remnants of his doublet before it could hit me in the head and blinked at the price she had just quoted. It was highway robbery and I told her so as Neidr and his paramour overset one of the chairs in the parlor. _

_She batted her eyes at me "If you wish to drive a bargain it's best to do so before you sample the vintage." There was another crash behind us "And I'm including new cloths and damages in the price." I was too fascinated by what was occurring between their enaids to haggle, it was only money. I would just have to make some more gemstones later. I don't think I'd ever seen two people quite so mindlessly intent on_

I rubbed my stinging cheek and looked up into Elizabeth's furious glare.

Jack was grinning merrily as the Governor said very solemnly "I am very, very disappointed in you, William. I had thought **you** at least had a sense of decency despite your parentage." I could feel my face flaming as Commodore Norrington sniffed disapprovingly and Elizabeth tossed her head looking wounded "Will, how could you?"

I swallowed, the little crack in her voice making me feel like the lowest of cads.

"Now, Lizzy, ye need te make up yer mind luv. Do ye want dear William te read everything or not?"

There was a cunning light in her eyes even while her lip was trembling. I knew that she manipulated me shamelessly but I loved her anyway.

"So he can edit out anything **he** finds inappropriate for **me** but I have to suffer him reading what **I** don't consider proper for **him**?"

Jack twitched his nose and shrugged "She's got ye there mate."

"I'm sorry Elizabeth. Please forgive me and I swear to be more careful" Jack and Elizabeth both looked disappointed but the Governor was pleased.

Just to be safe I flipped the page.

_Henry's eyes followed me as I stalked across the top of the Rose Rock too furious to speak. _

"_So is it Jane or your 'guests' that have you in such a froth?" I paused in my circuit, tried to speak but all that emerged was a growl. _

"_Jane then" he said. I canted my head questioningly._

"_You can generally find something amusing in the 'den of iniquity' that your townhouse has turned into." I snickered, I couldn't help it. The ranks of my father's 'spies' had swelled to eight. Theoretically they were observing me but most of the time they were either too hazed to add two and two or too fixated on female companionship to pay a bit of attention to the rest of the world. They were costing me a not so small fortune. They were messy, annoying, sloppy, expensive, whiny (when I refused fetch them more chocolate since it was vanishingly rare in England and even in Spain and the Netherlands not easy to find), giddy (when I did), and a general pain in arse but they were, admittedly, amusing. They also worried me. They were, all off them, almost frantic not to be sober and were decidedly petulant when I forced the issue from time to time but I absolutely __**refused**__ to have any of them end up the Ellyllon equivalent of drunkards if there was anything I could do to prevent it regardless of their opinions on the matter. They were ultimately my subjects and while I had nothing against the occasional bout of merrymaking there was something seriously __**wrong**__. Neidr wasn't the only one given to bouts of sobbing but none of them would tell me what upset them. They begged me not to ask saying that they were forbidden to speak and instead tried to get me to join them. Not likely, I preferred to indulge in private thank-you-very-much if I indulged at all. God alone knew what bit of nonsense the lot of them would think up to get into next and as much as I grumbled at having to constantly bail them out of trouble I did rather enjoy it after the fact. I sat down on the rock next to Henry letting my feet dangle in the air and handed him what was left of the parchment I had nearly strangled the ink off of._

"_I had Mary ready to release Jane. Despite every trick Renard could think of, every logical argument why it was politically unwise I had her convinced that good, Christian mercy would eventually lead Jane back to the Catholic fold. Mary sent Dr. Feckenham to sound Jane out on the matter and" I waved a hand and snarled. Stupid, ungrateful, suicidal, moronic, idiotic, self-centered, brainless, fanatical, obsessed, zealot bitch, I could wring her throat myself. Except it would probably end up a murder suicide. I was tempted to cut off her fingers and rip out her tongue. _

"_Oh, my" Henry said softly. 'Oh my', the best he could do was 'oh my'? He was holding what could easily be our death warrant. Given the current legislation putting your name to a pamphlet that vitriolically insulting to all things catholic was enough to win you a date with the headsman even if you HADN'T treasonously been crowned Queen. Jane had tied my hands at every turn but this all but destroyed my credibility at court. I had three choices, physically remove her from the Tower, start killing beginning with Mary and Renard, or stay here and meekly die with Jane. I absentmindedly offered the sparrow that had adopted me on my return some seeds. At least he was cheaper than the free boaters back in my townhouse. Anuion shifted a bit. I wished he would just bloody sit but he wouldn't in my presence. _

"_Have you thought about what you will do if she goes to the block?" Anuion had told Henry everything he feared using my own declaration that Henry was to be accorded the same honors, defense, and respect that I was. I was still annoyed but I couldn't exactly chide Anuion about it. I sighed. I had thought about little else than how I was to escape either dying or becoming a Grey Ellyllon except when the revelers in my townhouse did something spectacularly stupid (which was damn near a daily event). Anuion had given up trying to get me to talk to Lluniwer and the 'spies' were worse than useless (thought on the bright side I very much doubted any useful intelligence was going in the other direction either). What __**I**__ wanted was to toss the stupid git over my shoulder and run for the Thames the problem was my wishes didn't seem to count for much. Maybe it was the body switching, maybe it was the promise I'd made her but the final result was that I couldn't do it. So I'd turned all my efforts to securing her perfectly legal release only to have her destroy that possibility with this, this. I went back to pacing around the rose arbor. _

"_Rebellion is brewing" I said softly. Henry blinked at me in surprise. I suppose he was rather out of touch here but then no one in the court knew it was coming either. "The Spanish marriage is unpopular" there was an understatement. "The people are planning to rise for either Bess or Jane." _

"_Mary will have to kill them both." _

_Mary wouldn't be inclined to kill either of them but Renard would push for it again and with my own influence sorely diminished it was likely that at least one of them would pay with her life. Damn Jane's fanaticism. 'This is in God's hands, Rhys' my arse. She'd forbidden me to either help or hinder the rebellion or to assassinate anyone in her name. She hadn't, on the other hand, forbidden me from speaking to Philip or his father. Perhaps I could work the other end of the problem? I doubted it but since all of the good logical courses were forbidden it was time to start grasping at straws. Which didn't make Henry or Anuion any less worried so it was decidedly time to start on a contingence plan if for no other reason than to sooth my friends ruffled nerves. I cleared my throat, eyes half closed in concentration. One of the reasons I don't often sing is that I've never particularly cared for it but the more important one is that it was my preferred vehicle for blessing and cursing. It needn't be so, not a single word need be spoken, will and magic alone where generally enough. Which was exactly WHY I forced it to be structured. The more powerful the blessing or curse the more elaborate it should be. Magic done willy-nilly was the height of sloppiness and I had no intention of allowing it to happen. By forcing myself to make it a full process I rendered a dangerously wild gift focused, precise, and most importantly __**CONTROLLED**__. The downside was that I put the ability, to quote Argellion, 'in a box'. Fine by me. I liked knowing what I was doing, when I was doing it, and __**HOW**__ it would be done. The mere thought of magic slipping free of the reins I kept on it was enough to make my skin crawl. According to Argellion the melltith, the hex, and gwyelt, the wild talent, drew from the same gift the only difference was in the nature of the caster. Argellion had wanted me to learn both, for he believed that to do only one or the other was a handicap. I shivered. No, not the gwyelt, not ever. Yes, the gwyelt had advantages, first and foremost it could be recalled but that also meant that it faded with time slowly diminishing in strength unless renewed. Second, it acted independently of the caster's own abilities tapping into __**EVERYTHING**__ magic could potentially do to bring about the caster's wishes, in an individual with a limited breadth of gifts the gwyelt was clearly superior but with the exception of time there was nothing outside my grasp. Why should I let a wish loose to do Jane's God alone knew what when I could craft something ready made to the task with the melltith? Yes, a melltith did only __**EXACTLY**__ what it was crafted to and as far as I was concerned that was no disadvantage at all. _

I couldn't help but glance up at Jack as I digested that. Mallory certainly hadn't gone into such detail the night he had told me that Jack was a gwyelt. Nor had he mentioned just how much the entire concept of wild magic unnerved him. Jack's gifts had to have been Mallory's worst nightmare, gwyelt and gorchymyn in greater measure than his own. Or perhaps **not** in **greater** measure, both of those gifts frightened him, so it stood to reason that he wouldn't wield them with the same easy confidence as the others.

"Is there some reason fer yer regard, Whelp?" Jack batted his eyes "I know I'm fetching but honestly I thought ye only had eyes fer Lizzie." He frowned "Ye aren't really a eunuch are ye?"

God, that joke was so tired. I toyed with the page wondering if I should tell Jack that he was a gwyelt. Mallory hadn't and I knew some of his reasons but where they the right ones? Or had he been blinded by his own fears? Jack was doing magic willy-nilly I **knew** he was but was it a problem? Undecided I kept silent for now and went back to reading.

_I began by crafting a tune and then 'playing' it with the Wind. 'Playing' the Wind was never easy and frankly took more concentration than flying. Flying took strength but there was a fine control required to 'play' well that surpassed any other trick I'd ever tried with Wind. Henry and Anuion were nearly beside themselves with worry so I made them part of the plan as I opened my mouth to sing a merging of healing, necromancy, and melltith that I had honestly didn't know would work but I very much doubted would hurt. I pierced my hand deeply on the thorns of the arbor and let the blood drip onto the stone._

"_**Alas our time may be over and my heart cries that this is wrong,**_

_**There is a darkness in the valley, an all encompassing fog ,**_

_**But no matter how far I wander, though the path be lonely and long,**_

_**My thoughts will never leave you and I will cleave to thee with this song.**_

_**So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,**_

_**May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn**_

_**To lead me through death, darkness, and storm.**_

_**To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,**_

_**Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore."**_

_By blood and oaths I was already bound to Henry and Anuion now I used the song to anchor my heart, the thing most threatened by Jane's death to theirs making them a pair of brilliant beacons but I extended it beyond the men themselves to their entire bloodlines so long as they or any kin remained alive my heart would be drawn to them even from beyond the grave. By invoking the candle I tied Fire to the spell since this went beyond a mere melltith, I bound Wind by commanding the song to linger and I sent it vibrating from breeze to breeze, the shore brought Sea into the mix where She touched Earth and I sealed the entire thing in the Rose Rock with the Blood. I continued to sing the chorus over and over branding it into every link of the web I was forming as deeply as I could as I took to the air. I needed Peregrine for the next step. Settling onto his dark deck I continued playing though it was becoming difficult and my head was beginning to ache abominably. I laid a hand against the smooth wood of the mast, focusing myself as I never had before._

_**On the blue Sea's heaving breast, **_

_**We have sailed both east and west,**_

_**Lest my own chest should be found to lack**_

_**I hide a piece of my heart in thy mast of deepest black**_

_Not my best attempt at poetry but if it worked I wasn't going to complain. I forced every memory I could recall, every emotion I had ever had into the mast that I had woven of Sea, Wind, and Fire until I felt as if I had wrung myself dry but I very carefully didn't let anything of Jane's influence slip through, included nothing of her since the link had gone so deep. If she died I wanted to return cleanly myself and not some strange chimera of us both._

_**So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,**_

_**May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn**_

_**To lead me through death, darkness, and storm.**_

_**To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,**_

_**Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore."**_

_I made Peregrine another 'candle'. I had no idea if I could find my way back from the darkness of death but I intended to leave myself as many and as bright a beacons as I could. I had now irrevocably bound myself to Henry's family BEYOND death. That was…sobering. I shivered in the midwinter chill I shouldn't be able to feel. How had I ever become this desperate? I had anchored myself with Henry, Anuion, Peregrine, the Rose Rock, Wind, Sea, and Fire, what else could I use? I walked toward shore and standing with one foot on the water and one on land I reached out to the servants on my estates._

_**Blood to Blood I claim thee, master to servant I bind thee**_

_**That thy loyalty shall be a beacon, and thy regard a light unto me.**_

_**May the wind and rain be at your back, may your kindness always show**_

_**May your horses never weary when you have miles to go**_

_**And if sorrow ever finds you may it leave you just as soon**_

_**And may all the seeds you planted grow straight and tall and true**_

_I tied it to the estate itself and everything on it binding myself to the various Old Blood families more tightly than I had ever been before. I banged out the chorus again with my head ready to explode before turning to London. Should I use the other Alltude or the spies as a final tie? Did I dare? If nothing else I needed to check on my resident trouble makers who, by my reckoning, should out of chocolate and well into the absinthe they had stockpiled as a reaction to my refusal to provide them with more of their mind altering beverage of choice. Personally I much preferred them drifting on chocolate to rampaging on absinthe but I still remembered the vacant gazes of the opium users in Asia. Not on my watch. As long as I was their only source there was no way in Jane's God's hell I was going to give them unlimited quantities. They would just have to buck up and either be sober or 'drunk' on something else every few days. Hmm, it was very quiet for an absinthe evening. I'd rather gotten into a rhythm, first night of chocolate, so hazed they didn't know their arses' from their heads, second, a bit less fogged and fixated on all things female. (I had had to staff the house with nothing but male servants. Thankfully none of this crowd seemed inclined to buggery. I paid the whores enough to keep them more than content. Actually I over paid a fair bit because the way the chocolate seem to put both parties in heat at a mere touch by the Ellyllon half of things smacked much too close to rape for my comfort. My conscious needed soothing that they were willing before that touch occurred) third winding down into a lightly piffled giddy state (usually the best night for something truly, spectacularly stupid since they were no longer in raging rut and had just enough thought in their collective heads to think up some amazingly strange shite), fourth whining for more chocolate, fifth starting in on the absinthe, six well past all sensible behavior and stumbling drunk (a good night for mayhem AND stupidity), seventh hangovers all round as absinthe (also not easy to acquire in England and I __**refused**__ to procure them any) ran low, eight stone cold sober (and extremely whiny. If I had ever even dreamed of acting like that Skeffington would have.,. what Skeffington would have done didn't even bear considering). On the ninth day I brought them more chocolate because, frankly, I didn't WANT them sober. Sober they might actually do their job which was to spy on me. I just also didn't want them to end up staring blankly into space drooling either. _

_Not liking the change in pattern (this being fifth night) I slipped into the house only to discover that everyone was still at giddy. Sleif was weaving bubbles and the rest were trying to catch them without popping them. For the moment it looked like a quiet night. But they shouldn't have had enough chocolate to still be giddy. I was damn careful about how much I let them have because I knew first hand how potent the stuff was and just how little restraint and judgment an Ellyllon had with it. They were excruciatingly unhappy about being mother henned by a 'baby' but none of them had the nerve to challenge me on it. Had they found another source?? Or my own personal much finer quality stash? And where was Neidr? I had ordered the servants to leave the second floor rooms largely untouched (just on the off chance someone couldn't tell a boy from a girl once properly piffled) and the place was an absolute pig sty. I spat a curse and started cleaning up slamming things back into their proper places. _

"_Leave it to the servants, my Prince" Neidr said softly from behind me. I did not start but it was a near run thing. How the blazes had he gotten behind me without me knowing? The damn melltith was still ringing in my ears but that was no excuse. I gave every appearance of ignoring him while watching carefully from the corner of my eye. He was sober, stone cold sober. That's why the others were still giddy, he'd given them his share this week, that's why things had been so very quite, he had undoubtedly been nixing some of the more ludicrous ideas. He was dressed for going out and a quick (relatively) check with the gate revealed that he had just returned from…somewhere._

_He circled around in front of me and plucked the book I had been about to reshelve from my fingers "Servants" he said in the same tone I'd used a few months ago about the world being round "We have them for a reason" the book went back where it had been. For a breath every muscle in my body locked up anticipating the blow. My head absolutely, positively KNEW that Skeffington was very, very dead. He was aged lion shite. He was not going to break my face against a wall because something was out of place. I KNEW it, the news just hadn't reached my gut yet which tied itself in knots. I picked the book back up and pointedly put it on the shelf._

"_I __**like**__ things __**neat**__" I snarled at him. His eyes narrowed, ears twitched. Damn, I'd tipped something and this wasn't the floating fool I'd been leading about on a leash since he got here. Lluniwer and Teflu called him a viper. I hadn't seen any indication of it but it's tough to be a snake in the grass when you're drifting above the clouds or face down in a willing doxie's heaving bosom. He shrugged and lounged on one of the chairs but not in the loose sprawl I was accustomed to from him and began working his cravat loose. _

"_Nothing wrong with that, just with doing it yourself. You clearly spent too much time off at sea. You do for yourself what no prince should ever do." _

_I forced myself NOT to react when he dropped it on the floor even though it made me want to shriek. God! I could not __**STAND**__ messes but I stood there forcing myself not to flinch. He was watching me through half-lidded eyes. Weighing. Measuring. No flattery, no groveling, no deference, that much was at least consistent. I liked the Neidr I knew and I couldn't afford to particularly since he probably didn't really exist. The real Neidr was this sharp eyed young Ellyllon that I didn't know. I had been careful, knowing when they finally went back that they would remember everything they had seen and done. I hadn't forced anyone to take anything (quite the contrary) and had been careful in word and deed to give no one cause for complaint against me nor had I allowed anything of a sensitive nature in their grasp. _

"_I should have given you my share instead of them" he said "The Draigs know you need it more than any of us."_

"_Really?" I retorted archly._

"_Indeed" he shook his head sitting up a little "you wouldn't know a good time if it bit you on the arse. You're entirely too young to be this serious, this __**old**__."_

"_Why did you give them your share?" I said attempting to change the subject. I really hadn't expected him to give it up (Neidr could be mulishly stubborn and ferociously single-minded even when thoroughly drunk) but he answered my question instead of pursuing his own tact._

"_I have to report in to our fathers the day after tomorrow. I wanted to do it with a clear head." He was afraid. _

_I decided the mess was less important for now and sat opposite him "Is there anything I can do?" _

_He just blinked at me "Where __**did**__ you come from?"_

_I canted my head at him questioningly but he just shook his own and looked like he might cry again but Jennet came in and draped herself over him. He kissed her long and far more tenderly than when he was 'drunk' on chocolate. Come to think of it, I wouldn't call what happened then making love (my curiosity pricked I'd done a fair bit of candlelight observations from peasant hovels to lords beds), it was certainly exceedingly passionate mating, but not 'love'. I was surprised to see that despite his initial opinion of dynols there was real affection and real bonding going on between their enaids. __**THAT**__ hadn't been there last week and I wondered, knowing the prevailing opinion of my instructors and presumably all noble Ellyllon, what his father was going to have to say. Reason enough to fret especially considering Jennet's state. _

"_Wait for me" he whispered nibbling ever so slightly on the delicate shell of her ear "I'll be up shortly."_

_She boldly ran her fingers over him eliciting a throaty moan before leaving, hips swaying with every step. He looked nearly as frenzied as an Ellyllon on a gulp of chocolate (a sip to make merry, a gulp for an orgy, half a cup for seventh heaven, a full cup for a blissful death as far as I could tell for an adult Ellyllon) as he raptly watched every move. He shook his head a little once the door was closed._

"_You could have gone with her" 'or taken her right here' I thought 'it's not like any of you have been really into privacy'. _

"_Soon" he said "I wanted to talk to you when I was actually capable of rational thought." There was something half-way between an amused twinkle and a challenge in the dark red eyes. _

"_You're not what I would ever have expected" he finally said when I didn't rise to the bait "and you're far too clever for a child your age."_

_I bristled at that, I couldn't help it and Neidr actually had the nerve to laugh at me for it. Cheeky git. "And entirely too austere."_

"_Austere?" I blinked at him, not a word I would have ever associated with myself, not really. _

"_You could have kept us unremittingly incoherent" he said ignoring my mild protest "and you had no need of chocolate to do it. All you needed to do was sing us to sleep. Or you could have wrapped us in gorchymyn and done whatever you wanted with us. Instead you paid a king's ransom for our entertainment, played the perfect host, and put up with all manner of…complications when you are clearly entangled in schemes of your own. Why?"_

_I shrugged "I'm easily amused."_

_He just blinked at me "No one who is easily amused would ever be able to keep a straight face while attempting to explain to the watch how the entire contents of a haberdashery ended up dancing a galliard in the street, apparently of their own volition. And make it sound logical to the superstitious Christian mind. You could have just gorchymyned them."_

"_I like a challenge" I snipped "using the gorchymyn is a clear sign of a complete lack of ingenuity, creativity, and imagination. And I __**am **__easily amused." And the haberdashery hadn't been nearly as bad was when they convinced the entire feline population of London to yowl the Song of Avalon in unison. I still wanted to know how on Earth they had gotten that many cats to agree on anything. Avoiding a slaughter of 'bespelled' cats from occurring afterward had NOT been easy._

_He drew in a sharp, startled breath "I wouldn't say that again, my prince, not until you sit on your father's throne."_

_Interesting, it was a warning and I took it to heart. It also implied that my father did not share my reservations about using the gorchymyn. Which would explain why everyone was so distressed when I pressed them on certain matters, they had been magically FORCED not to speak. _

"_One earnestly hopes that it will be many years before that should come to pass. I have no desire to see my father's days shortened nor am I yet ready for so great a responsibility." It was true (well except for me being unready. I was reasonably certain I could take over the reins of a nation) and I let that show. I wanted Neidr to be able to honestly report that I had no intention of pursuing my grandfather's scheme to assassinate my father._

_That set off quite a firestorm and I couldn't be certain but I thought that Neidr was disappointed._

"_Do you think you will have to remain in Avalon? Or will you be back?"_

"_Why? Will you miss me?" the tone was teasing, the enaid wasn't._

"_Certainly, who else would ever think to replace every lock in London with cowslips and leave me trying to figure out how to fix it without any dynol noticing?"_

_He considered for a half a breath, "I would have thought setting the pigwidgins loose in the city would been worse."_

_Those damn pint sized (literally) dwarves had wrecked absolute havoc before I'd managed to round them all back up and pack them back where they belonged. _

"_Actually the trentis were the worst." The creatures were made of soft, fluffy moss, they could get themselves into places you would never dream of and they had some decidedly bizarre notions._

_He leaned forward red eyes rapt "__**Why**__ did you put up with it?"_

_So, they had been trying to see how far they could push me before I snapped. THAT was not amusing. I wondered if they came up with the notions on the sober days, somehow I doubted it. I wanted to snarl at him, I really did but I snickered instead remembering that blasted trenti in the 'convent'. Technically England didn't have convents anymore (though that would change if Mary had her way) but there were still ones to be found if you knew where and how to look. This particular bit of ambulatory fluff apparently liked to hear women shriek. It was, in truth, a lot less nasty and dangerous than most of the other trenti (who would have dreamed fluff could be homicidal? They hadn't been successful but a number of them had given it a good try). In the end the black and white cat (White Whiskers?) had been the one to finally catch it (if I was being honest the cats had caught most of them. I think they were trying to make up for all the trouble following the yowling, not that any of them would ever admit it) after a long chase through the kitchen, pantry, the chimney (what a mess!), three bedchambers, the library, and the chapel with the benighted little thing scaring as many women as possible along the way by assuming (roughly) the appearance of a spider. All the little fishes in the Sea but the looks on their faces (alright I admit I hadn't exactly APPLIED myself to catching the little imp and had been vaguely disappointed when the cat got him) and I just had to laugh, once started I nearly went out of the chair as I recalled months of insanity._

"_Well, well, well" there was a strange gleam in Neidr's eyes "I didn't know you knew how to do that. Damn, now I owe Slief ten arian."_

"_How to do what?" I asked defensively, there wasn't much I __didn't__ know how to do._

"_Laugh" he said softly "Five months of the most ridiculous situations we could think of while glassy-eyed floating on that __**glorious**__ chocolate you discovered and not a chuckle, snicker, giggle, Draigs, not even a smirk. You'd just look over the situation, figure out how to fix it, and go on. Some days I think you're older here" he laid a hand over his heart "than all eight of us combined."_

_Well, I was certainly more responsible and speaking of responsibility "Will you be back or will you have to remain in Avalon?"_

"_I don't know" a flash of fear… and regret?_

_I started to nibble my lip and forced myself to stop "Would vows taken before a Christian priest be binding?"_

_He frowned brow furrowing in confusion "Why do you ask?"_

"_Because it would be much easier on Jennet and the child if you at least appeared to be married."_

_It was a good thing that I had excellent vermin banes because if he had been standing in the street flies would have taken up residence in his open mouth (well, not this time of year since it was mid-winter). He was absolutely poll-axe stunned. He tried to speak about four times before I finally asked,_

"_Did it not occur to any of you that with all the fornicating going on that eventually someone was going to get pregnant?"_

_He swallowed and finally scrapped his jaw up off of the entirely too dirty floor. "I don't think any of us have been doing a great deal of thinking. I can't __**imagine**__ why." Again that faint challenge but he was too broadsided to put any real strength behind it._

_I glanced down, granted I wasn't completely innocent even if I was far too young to have joined in the aforementioned fornicating. So that wasn't what he was afraid of. Drat. "She isn't the only one."_

_He ran a hand over his face, mind still not done reeling. Maybe I'd given them too much chocolate over too long a time and done damage?_

"_It will be a simple enough affair to have the children raised on one of my estates. The servants are all of Old Blood families and most would consider it an honor to have a few adhils in their midst but Christian mores have crept in and if the children ever need to leave the estates they will be branded bastards." I shrugged "I can probably forge the necessary paperwork if an actual ceremony is a problem." I drew a deep breath not wanting to broach this option "Or I could terminate the pregnancies if the children would cause…difficulties." Please say no I thought at him. For just a breath I almost wished I was gwyelt just so I could wish not. Killing killers could be fun. Killing anything else wasn't. _

"_And if that is what I asked my Prince?" he was very, very still, giving me no indication of his own wishes._

"_I would try, most earnestly, to convince you otherwise."_

"_Why do you care? Why did you put up with our behavior? And above all if someone is acting contrary to your wishes why do you not simply gorchymyn them into obedience? You have the power so why all the talk?" The words came in a rush and he didn't even __**breath**__ waiting for my reply. He __**wanted**__ something from me even more than he'd wanted a girl after his first gulp of chocolate._

"_Might does __**not**__ make right" I said firmly "Just because you __**can**__ doesn't mean you __**should**__. What an Ellyllon __**won't**__ do is as important as what he __**can **__do and I refuse to be a tyrant. I don't like bullies. I'm easily amused. And I care" I paused the others were easier to answer "I care because it's my duty to care. You wouldn't be in this fix if I hadn't drugged you. I have a responsibility to assist you in any way I can." And because I'd like us to be friends but I didn't say THAT. You don't have friends in court, any court, any where. Keep it formal, limited, defined, distant._

_He was crying again. Not the sobs of the first day but silent tears that rolled down his cheeks, somehow they were worse._

_I really hate when people under my protection cry, Will, Mallory-in-the-carhar wrote. Not manipulative tears, I don't give a rat's arse about those, they simply annoy me, but real ones, real ones make me feel like I've failed. People under my protection shouldn't cry from anything but joy. If they do then I've been sloppy somewhere and I hate being sloppy. And I hate when someone else pays the price for my mistakes. _

_I cleared my throat uncomfortably "What do you want done about the child?"_

"_Can you make the arrangements for a small ceremony?"_

_I nodded._

"_Then please do."_

"_Shouldn't you ask Jennet first?" _

_He gave me a sappy smile "I don't think she'll have any objections. With your permission my prince?"_

_I waved him away, that was the first time the 'my prince' had held the proper deference. I wasn't certain if I was pleased or disappointed. _

"_Do you need me to hide the merging of your enaids?" He froze in the doorway and turned back, terrified._

"_Can you?" was he frightened of the thought I could do something like that (since I'd been told it was impossible, and maybe it was for anyone else, but I was the Prince of Avalon) or that it had occurred? _

"_I can."_

"_Then please do." It didn't take long, I am that good. Since they had the adjoining chamber I didn't even both with a candle flame I simply watched through the wall. He paused on the threshold and just stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. She turned, eyes questioning, one hand curled around a fine brush I'd procured for the 'ladies' her coal black hair tumbled artfully around her creamy shoulders. Her eyes really were her best feature, they were nearly as arresting as Neidr's own, but instead of deep red they were icy blue. She rose, robe gaping just enough to tease, and tried to claim his mouth but he stopped her._

"_Milord" she whispered, aghast, "have I offended thee?"_

"_Not at all" he ran one slender uncalloused finger gently down the side of her face before tenderly cupping her chin (NOT her best feature, with a different chin she would have been lovely instead of merely reasonably pretty). Well, this was certainly a change from how things had been conducted in the past, no wonder the poor girl looked confused. He smiled at her. He had it bad, much worse than I thought, completely smitten. "Lord Tallyrand pointed out that I need to do the honorable" his eyes darkened on the word as did his enaid "thing, that is, if you'll have me?"_

_She looked nearly as surprised as that first day at the bordello before pouncing on him (that was more in keeping with how things usually went around here). He wasn't braced for it and she nearly took them both to the floor (but then that had likely been her intent) as she wrapped her long legs around him._

"_I take it that's a yes" he said huskily when she let him up for air._

"_Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes." Each yes being punctuated with a quick kiss bestowed on a different part of his face as she traced her way all the way up to the pointed tips of his ears_

_Mallory-in-the-carchar sighed it's not fair, Will (granted it never is), I reveal my pointy ears and my dearest friend wants to put a bullet between my eyes (alright so it was justified, but still) Neidr reveals his and his lass thinks they're just the sweetest thing_

He didn't actually write it but you could feel just how much Mallory wanted a girl, preferably one who was partial to pointy ears.

Jack crowed "So ye AREN'T a eunuch! Splendid! Now we just need te get ye back te yer bonny lass."

Norrington frowned in confusion "What bonny lass?"

Jack waved his hands vaguely "The one Bill mentioned on an island down near Venezuela."

Alarm flashed in Norrington's eyes and he slumped a little. I shot him a questioning look but he waved at me to continue. I flipped the page having no desire to feel the back of Elizabeth's hand again so soon.

_Jennet looked as confused as I felt. What was Neidr up to? Instead of immediately falling asleep (which as far as I could tell was what every male did as soon as he'd had his way with a woman). He kissed the tip of her button nose before tracing the panes of her face "Is there anything milady desires?"_

_She licked her lips, face flushing. NOW she was shy??_

"_The stories always speak of what beautiful music your people make, would you sing me a song?" _

"_I doubt the fairest voice could do justice to your beauty" smoothly done "but I shall do my humble best." He glanced about the room and picked up a lute that I'd forgotten he'd even brought with him and began to sing her a love song in a very nice rich baritone. _

_**My love, she said on a winter's evening **_

_**That she would take my hand and take my name**_

_**If I would but hold her close and swear the same**_

_Good point what name was I going to give the happy couple? Ellyllon names didn't exactly sound like proper English ones and I was thinking I should settle the smallest of my estates on them so that if Neidr had to return to Avalon and I ended up dead she would have something to maintain the child on besides selling herself. _

_**All my life I've been a wastrel, a barren seed that has not grown**_

_**But now I'll root and spread my branches across the ground I'll call my own**_

_Back when the Mouldwarp had been king people had gone on and on about what a fine voice I had but I like Neidr's better. And he put more heart into it than I ever did unless I was casting a mellith and even then it was about the spell not the music. So names…someone related to 'Lord Tallyrand' but not too closely some distant cousin I could get Lluniwer to create a past for. I was glad now that Cromwell had made me memorize 'my' pedigree. The Bracegirdles? I shivered I wouldn't inflict that name on some poor child. Chadd? Short and sweet but they were a pack of busybodies and would notice. The Remingtons had a cousin who'd gone to sea and never returned. Well now he would in name if nothing more. As a fellow sailor and family I would just have to help the young man get back on his feet. I noted that Jennet seemed immensely pleased with this turn of events. It was decidedly something to keep in mind for when I was old enough to bed a wench. He switched the tune and sang._

**O, my love is like a red, red rose,****  
****That's newly sprung in June;****  
****O, my love is like a melodie****  
****That's sweetly played in tune.****  
****As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, ****  
****So deep in love am I;****  
****And I will love thee still, my dear,****  
****till a' the seas gang dry.****  
****And I will love tee still, my dear,****  
****Till a' the seas gand dry.**

**Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,****  
****And the rocks melt wi' the sun;****  
****And I will luve thee still, my dear,****  
****While the sands of life shall run.****  
****But fare thee weel, my only love!****  
****O, fare thee weel awhile!****  
****And I will come agian, my love,****  
****Tho' 'twere ten thousand miles.****  
****Tho' 'twere then thousand mile, my love,****  
****Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile,****  
****And I will come again, my love,****  
****Tho 'twere ten thousand mile.**

_Her eyes widened "You're leaving?!"_

_He caught her hand "Only for a little while and I will wed thee first." He set the lute aside, kissed each finger tip, and running his fingers through her hair he began to gently free every tangle their coupling had wrought._

_Isn't a little late to seduce the girl AFTER you've gotten her with child? I thought, but I suppose better late than never. _

"_If you need anything, beloved, in my absence, go to Lord Tallyrand" _

_Hmm well, if I was going to potentially be responsible for the mother and child they might as well join my collection of candles. I called the song back up easily since Wind was now tuned to it. _

_**May you find your true love, and know it from the start,**_

_**No matter how far you travel may your love never part,**_

_**May you always see the mystery in the fading of the day**_

_**And may we meet again as one next time you pass this way**_

_**So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,**_

_**May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn**_

_**To lead me through death, darkness, and storm.**_

_**To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,**_

_**Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore.**_

My God, Chris **REMINGTON**, what were the odds of Henry, Neidr, and Elwyn's decedents all ending up on the Dominant with Mallory? Too long to calculate. So was it Mallory's milltith or a wish of Jack's that had brought them together? My father and I had been **born** bound by blood to Mallory's service did we have a choice? Though I had to admit so far we had received far more from Mallory than he gotten from us so how did that work? Did Chris have any gifts? Mallory said a wish could be recalled but he hadn't said how, did he even know? My mind was reeling with questions as I skipped over the hasty weddings (apparently two of the other girls were also with child), Neidr's departure and return, Mallory's attempts to undo the damage Jane had wrought at court. I nearly paused on the rebellion since Mallory seemed to have a great deal of vitriol about it but we didn't have time. I was surprised to see Mallory speaking to Philip.

"_Are you certain it is wise to demand Lady Jane and Princess Elizabeth's deaths?" I inquired as I appeared to pointedly sip some of the red wine before me. Prince Philip was exactly as I remembered him, a disagreeable, dogmatic, arrogant, hidebound, little prig. Ruy Gomez de Silva, the closest thing he had to a friend and confident was sleeping in the corner so I could use his face and voice for this little meeting. Pity their places weren't reversed. Ruy was both the better man and would be the better king as well. To grant Philip his due, he knew that Ruy's logic and instincts were usually excellent and he was the one person other than his father, the Holy Roman Emperor that Philip would listen to which was why he was the one napping in the corner. _

_Philip made that distinctive, unfortunate-recipient-of-the-dreaded-Hapsburg-jaw-attempting-not-to-drool sound, ick. While I emphatically wished my twin sister hadn't been messily devoured alive by our aunt I was glad I didn't have a sister to marry. There would undoubtedly be consternation and some nasty intrigue I couldn't help but think it was a good thing that for the first time in over seven thousand years the Heir would HAVE to marry outside of the Bloodline. I swallowed as the thought that I might be required to marry one of my aunts suddenly occurred to me. They would be too old, wouldn't they? The youngest, Meleri, was over a century older than my father which made her three hundred more than me. She'd be nearly five hundred before I could legally marry, old even by our standards. _

"_As long as there is a Protestant heir near at hand neither, I, my bride to be, or any of our children will ever be safe."_

"_And should Mary die without issue the crown will pass to Mary, Queen of Scots, and straight into the hands of her French 'protectors'" the Hapsburgs had considered the possibility (really a foregone conclusion given Mary's age and health) and decided that the risk of England falling into French hands was less than the risk of assassination of the Emperor's only legitimate son if Jane and Bess were still alive. I didn't go as far as a gorchymyn but with Bess', Jane's, and most importantly my own life on the line I was willing to push the cymell, the persuasion, all the way to the wall. It wasn't a quite a compulsion, but someone caught in it had to fight, hard, not to do what I wanted. "You don't want that, do you? Mary isn't young, odds are good she won't be fruitful. Are you really certain you want France to rule England? Do you think any pathetic English barbarian would have the courage to challenge the might of the Hapsburg's by killing you? Do you really want those young girls blood on your hands? You don't want them dead, of course not, and there's no good reason for them die." I had him, he was nodding with me, I passed him quill and parchment "You should send a letter to Renard. Order him to stop demanding their deaths."_

_He dipped the quill "You are quite right Princess Elizabeth must not be executed."_

"_And Lady Jane?"_

_Philip blinked at me as if I'd taken leave of my senses "The woman is a dangerous heretic. The block is too good for her she should go to the flames."_

_I threw everything I had behind the cymell, "She's but a silly girl who has been taught no better. Surely we are counseled to mercy"_

_Philip snapped the cymell sending a backlash_

Elizabeth and the Governor both screamed as something that burned like fire and sent all your limbs twitching like a palsy victim's rushed through us. Thankfully the burn faded almost immediately but my hand spasmed uncontrollably as I reached out to Elizabeth. I had the worst case of pins & needles I had ever had in my life. Her own shook just as much but we managed to clasp hands anyway.

"El-z-b-th?" my voice cracked and broke jangling across octaves.

She cleared her throat and thankfully her voice was far clearer than my own "I'm f-ine Will. It was just a shock." The trembling in our hands was rapidly fading as she drew in a sudden little gasp "My God, Will, what did I do to him?"

"He's unconscious, luv" Jack said gallantly as he shook out his fingers "I'm almost positive he wouldn't have felt much."

Elizabeth didn't look terribly comforted as she waved me to continue.

_I shook off the mild annoyance_

I had to just stop and stare at Mallory's response. I knew that physical pain seemed to just roll off him like water off a duck's back. He felt it but just didn't (very often) seem to consider it a pressing concern I knew that but feeling the lash one's self put in an entirely different perspective.

_as cold dread coiled in my guts. That was game, set, and match. I had just played my last card and lost. Well, not my __**last**__ card, as Neidr had pointed out there was always the Gorchymyn. I shuddered. I could strip Philip of his free will and FORCE him to write what I wanted. I could FORCE Jane to leave the Tower, force her to give up this foolish desire to be a martyr. All it came down to was what an Ellyllon will do and won't do. And it was tempting, oh, so very tempting with my own life hanging in the balance as well. Especially when Jane's only response when I'd finally swallowed my pride (which had burned all the way down) and laid out what her death might do to me was to try to convince me to follow her God so that we could enter triumphantly into heaven together. No thanks, no way. She had cried at the thought of me being condemned to burn in Hell but her resolve had never wavered. In a fit of pique I threw Ruy's quiescent form back into his chair and yanked the charm off of him hard enough to sting before taking to the air._

After the shock of the backlash I lingered over the flight since I figured at least the Commodore would enjoy it.

_I landed lightly in the courtyard. The long flight had drained off my anger, along with most of my strength. My endurance was improving with practice but it was still exhausting. My guests could wait for their chocolate until tomorrow since I was in no mood to measure it out now and I didn't trust them not to accidentally kill themselves. My feet felt like lead as I made my way to my bedchamber. Which was occupied. Weariness made it rather hard to think but I was reasonably certain that this WAS my room and that Jennet didn't belong here. I blinked at her stupidly a few times before I remembered that I was the Prince of Avalon and my behavior was sloppy and unseemly._

_Uncertain how exactly to address her, what does one call a whore who becomes a wife? I gave her a brief nod and asked "Does milady require something?"_

_She hands fluttered like little birds but she was too nervous to speak. Just what I needed but if I yelled at her I'd be all night calming her back down. The length of my life had shrunk from potentially forever to just under a fortnight and I was in no mood to deal with Neidr's whatever she was. And then my lightning fast mind, God but I was more tired than I realized, noted that Neidr was NOT in the house._

"_Where is Neidr?"_

"_They took him" _

_Details would be nice, not to mention useful "They who?"_

"_He called the leader Puck."_

_I was abruptly a lot less tired. Having your heart rate double will do that to you, at least for a little while. I added a little fuel to the internal fire and started some coffee brewing. I had never met the Lord of the Hobgoblins, Puck Robin, but I'd heard enough stories to be cautious. If you believed everything you heard he was more likely to get you killed than a mardeth was to eat you. The cleverest trickster of all the cyfae. And he had Neidr. Damn. And I was exhausted from a long flight. Double damn. But had he really TAKEN Neidr against his will? _

"_What __**exactly **__happened?"_

_More hand fluttering._

_I sighed and said very reasonably "I can't go looking for him if I don't know where to look. The longer it takes you to tell me the further away they could be."_

_That settled her right back down as big as saucers china blue eyes blinked at me. She swallowed "He was singing to me" which probably meant if he had really gone unwillingly he was naked as the day he was born "and they came right through the wall." _

_What?! I snarled a question to the stones of the house who cringed (They came before they came). Not good, someone was playing games with time and I was as powerless as a dynol, not exactly, I still had a fairly impressive arsenal at my command, but it wouldn't matter if they hit me with something before they hit me. The whole concept made my head ache. _

"_They spoke El'lan" which the stones of the house didn't speak either but I'd likely get a less garbled answer from them since they were less upset. Hmm, maybe not less upset. Apparently time games played more havoc with stone than I'd thought. I tried to find a breeze that had been in the chamber. As cold as it was they would have had a fire burning in their room. I queried flame for a vision of what had happened to augment Jennet's account. The they proved to be what I assumed was Puck and six more hobgoblins against a very naked Neidr who had had a lute and the ability to craft sigils and wards as his only defense (apparently House Lofrudd did one thing magically and did it extremely well), which should have been enough. He might not have been able to hurt them but they couldn't have touched him either. I should have arrived to a stalemate __**at worst**__ and there were seven other Ellyllon in this house. Where the __**hell**__ were __**THEY**__ when this happened? But Neidr's resistance had folded almost immediately because one of them had appeared between him and Jennet. Not an easy trick since they had been __**quite**__ close. He was the time bender, hopefully the only one. I wouldn't forget his face. No signs of any other cyfae so one could at least hope that the hobs were not allied directly with anyone else. A dangerous assumption. They hadn't let him get dressed. That was not an encouraging sign. Jennet had screamed and no one had come. Because they hadn't heard? Perhaps. This was sloppy, not in its execution, they had certainly gotten Neidr, but they had left witnesses who remembered what had happened. Unless someone had been lying to me Puck was no little hedge sprite. He __**could**__ have covered his tracks. He hadn't – was that a Challenge? If so did I dare let it pass unanswered? Why had the others not answered? Was this some kind of private battle between House Lofrudd and the hobs? Would I be stepping into something I had no business interfering in?_

_She threw herself at her at my feet "I don't know where they took him my Lord, you must help him. He was so frightened." This was probably a trap. I should undoubtedly leave Neidr to whatever fate awaited him. She was crying. Ellyllon did not acknowledge the concept of chivalry. I was not going to be suckered into putting my life on the line for a not quite pretty face when I was too young to even be interested in such things. I could almost hear Lord Montague's voice '__To defend those within your care is the first and most important duty of any lord. We are called to serve and protect.'__That belief was part of what got him beheaded. __Ah, hell, I only had two weeks before I went to the block with Jane anyway, right? I might as well play the hero. I pulled her to her feet firmly but not roughly and went looking for the other miscreants. Who were well past one and working on being three sheets to the wind. I could feel my fury rising and I rendered them completely sober as roughly as possible. It didn't have to hurt but I made certain it did. They were not happy. Neither was I._

"_Didn't you hear Jennet?" I asked deceptively softly. _

_Eidion ap Baed glared at me out of his dull, mud green eyes. He was the first truly ugly Ellyllon I had ever seen nearly as tall as Lluniwer and wide as an ox and he liked to throw that size around and backed up by the grym a Draig, the dragon's strength, he was physically impressively formidable. Skeffington's tender mercies had taught me to dislike bullies and that was exactly what Eidion was. _

"_What does it matter to us what Neidr does to his harlot?" he retorted in El'lan. Why was Eidion, a glyw of House Nerth, spokesman for the group instead of Slief, who was the only pennaeth left with Neidr gone? Granted Slief's House wasn't nearly as high as Neidr's so despite technically holding the same rank Neidr was in truth of far higher standing but that didn't explain his deference to Eidion since Nerth was least of the High Houses. _

"_And does it matter to you that Neidr was taken from this house and you did nothing?"_

_Eidion shrugged "Not our business if the Udd of Lofrudd breaks faith with the hobs and his son pays the price."_

"_I'm making it your business because we are going after them."_

_The entire lot of them looked at me as if I'd gone insane. _

_Slief spoke for the first time "You intend to mount a rescue?" he asked incredulously as if the very concept was beyond comprehension._

"_Yes" I replied impatiently._

"_The animals that you live with might do that" Eidion snapped turning his glare on Slief who dropped his own eyes immediately, coward, "But we're Ellyllon. The strong survive, the weak die. Anyone who falls behind is left behind to whatever fate awaits them."_

"_Like hell" I snapped back "I command you to accompany me."_

"_Make us" Eidion challenged swaggering forward and pulling himself up to his full impressive height which left me staring up at his crotch. _

"_I am your prince" I snarled "How __dare__ you defy me?!"_

"_No, not yet, not until the Draigs choose. Until then you're just a Penthalion __**brat**__. You've got plenty of magic, little boy, I'll grant you that, but do you have the guts to take me on man to twerp?"_

_I'd fought a MARDETH who did this over grown lump of lard think he was? _

"_Take me if you can" I hissed before I thought. All he had to do was hit me once and with the grym a Draig behind it my hollow bones would be crushed to powder. One of these days my pride and my mouth were going to get me killed, for Neidr's sake I hoped it wasn't right now. _

**Review Replies:**

**Websurffer:**

First & foremost thank you for your review!!

At the moment I'm more focused on getting the story done than I am in trying to make it publishable. When I manage to get it done in this format I may try reworking it.

For it to flow naturally and be cleanly separate from PotC will take a fair amount of work but I happen to know that at least one major internet company is considering housing amateur novels on a publish on demand basis. While this may fall through it is planned to go live in a few years. I am not adverse to doing this if the company in question proceeds; but the story will need one further bit of rework because I believe that by the time I have added a new back-story for the characters that are currently drawn from PotC it will need to be a trilogy or else the book spines won't hold up thus I will also need to create some clean internal breaks that don't currently exist.

I have at least another year of writing to go before I'm done (or more given that I'm trying to get all three of the interlocking stories I'm working on done at roughly the same time) and can even start playing with a re-write.

Thank you for your enthusiasm though and I'll keep it in mind.

**Littlebird: **

Thank you for your review! Jack REALLY doesn't want Peregrine any angrier at him than he already is. If it wasn't for the fact that Peregrine is convinced that Jack is Mallory's only hope of getting his act back together Peregrine would be plotting his demise. There are only two beings gentle Peregrine hates, Auberon and Captain Jack Sparrow. Will won't need to by the end of the journal Jack will know a great many things, first and foremost being be careful what you wish for.

**Devil Red:**

Welcome and thank you! In order to recommend books I would need to know a bit more about your tastes and interests. If you would like you can email me or give some details in a review.

**Cheorl D'Arion:**

Thank you! Generally I have 3 rules for writing Will, first, foremost, and above all else, he's obsessed with Elizabeth this colors everything, second he's a fairly decent guy in a straight-lace sort of way, and third he's got a bit of a rash streak. I generally figure as long as anything he does/thinks fits within that (and in that order) he should be close to in character. I'm glad you agree and thank you!!

**DB:**

Thank you! And I'm certain there will be other Machiavelli references….

24


	30. A Dish Best Served Cold

**Author's notes:** Technically Mallory should be calling coffee by the Arabic names of qahwa or kahve since it was already popular in the Arab world in the 1500's but was just beginning to appear in Europe and did not become popular outside Venice until the late 1500/early 1600's. I have Elizabeth arriving in the Tower early, in real history she drug her heels as much as possible insisting she was too ill to travel and arrived a fortnight after Jane's death rather than the day before. Kudos to anyone who can spot the Methos, Jim Butcher, and Charles Dickens quotes.

I will be taking a brief hiatus from working on this story so I can write chapters for my other two fics. I am hoping to be posting again on this one in August sometime. My apologies for the long pause but the others stories need a little love too.

Thank you to all my reviewers; anon reviews are answered at the bottom…

**Chapter 16: Comes a Dragon: Part D: A Dish Best Served Cold**

_There was a limit to how far I could back up before running into either furniture or walls. _

_Slief licked his lips "Eidion, is this wise?"_

_Eidion just laughed "You know as well I do there will be no reprisals from Avalon."_

"_I wasn't worried about Avalon."_

"_If Neidr survives he won't have any interest in taking vengeance, and that's assuming he would have ever bothered."_

_This was either an incredibly elaborate plan to see how far I could be pushed before using the Gorchymyn (since Neidr had seemed fascinated by the fact I wouldn't) or he was in __**desperate**__ trouble. If he wasn't in desperate trouble I was going to kill him myself. And so much for the House of Penthalion being universally accepted as divine or else these were some serious blasphemers. I danced out from under a ham-handed blow and shoved a table between us. Eidion gleefully smashed it to bits and waded through the remnants. I didn't gulp thinking what those hands could do to me if they could do that to solid English oak. Honestly, he was nothing compared to a mardeth. I ignored the little voice that reminded me that the mardeth had killed me. I didn't need the Gorchymyn, Eidion had no defense against Fire but he'd challenged me to a purely physical fight and my pride wouldn't let me draw a weapon unless he did. _

"_Neidr won't be back" Slief at least sounded sorry about that._

"_Neidr isn't around to protect the brat anymore and I've had all I can stomach of his little 'highness'. Time for him to __**prove**__ he can run with the big boys."_

"_He's our only source of chocolate" Slief pointed out._

_That gave him pause. Not the brightest candle in the chandelier was Eidion. "So I won't kill him. I'll just hurt him enough that he won't even __**dream**__ of denying us again."_

_I growled low in my throat. Another bloody Skeffington. Threatening me, threatening my __**friend**__. The Draig roared to life. I feinted left and when I had the slow clod off balance I spun right and scrambled up him. Watching how much Neidr liked Jennet playing with his ears and remembering how sensitive my own ear tips were had given me an idea and I bit into his ear as hard as I could. He shrieked like a little girl and tried to smash me into the wall but I switched to the other ear letting him ram his own head into the unyielding stones (who made themselves even harder without me even asking. I got the impression my house didn't much like Eidion). He staggered, addled, and tried to rip me from his back, one hand catching in my braid and pulling hard enough that the skin parted and blood poured down my face, but I snaked one arm around his neck and the more he pulled the more I latched onto both throat and ear until I severed the one and his tongue lolled as he toppled to his knees. Half blinded by blood I slammed his face repeatedly against the floor (maybe it would improve his looks) until he stopped twitching and barely breathed. _

"_Anyone else?" I hissed spitting out the ear and licking our mingled blood from my lips. Silence. I took that as a no since I was still trying to get the blood out of my eyes. I healed the rents in my scalp and nearly swooned. I was so damn tired. In the heat of things I'd nearly forgotten and it hit me like a ton of bricks now. I couldn't rest though, somewhere out there Neidr was in trouble._

"_Water" I spat and upended the ewer that appeared almost instantly over my head. I glared, annoyed that I'd ruined a perfectly good doublet. "Where did they take him and what are they doing to him?"_

_Slief wouldn't raise his violet eyes from the floor. "I don't know exactly where but once the hobs take their pint of blood and pound of flesh they will give him to one of the difabyd."_

_I wasn't familiar with the word but it didn't sound promising "Difabyd?"_

_He shivered hugging himself, "Drainers of life, devourers of hope."_

_Sounded like nice folk. Every last one of them was afraid enough to piss themselves and from the smell of things someone had. Great, just great. I hoped they cleaned up the floor but I doubted they would. "How do you fight them?"_

_Slief shrugged, "You don't, you can't, you can only ward against them."_

_I frowned that was like me drowning it didn't make sense "Then Neidr shouldn't have any trouble." _

"_By the time the hobs are done with him he will."_

"_Stay here" I spat, they were more likely to be hindrances than help. _

"_You can't go after them."_

"_Do you think you can stop me?" I snarled. I'd been delayed long enough by their foolishness._

"_They've gone Under the Hill, you can't follow. You haven't been presented to the Draigs, the Barrier will stop you."_

_For just an instant I slumped but I drew a deep breath. I was the Prince of Avalon (minor technicalities notwithstanding) and I'd been doing the impossible all my life. This was just one more hurtle. Obviously I was Neidr's only hope. "I'll find a way around it." I turned to leave but Slief caught my arm (nearly losing his life for his presumption) and forced something into the hand that didn't have a dagger pressed to his throat hard enough to draw blood. _

_I glanced down at the battered box before flipping it open. A compass. That didn't point north which meant it wasn't really a compass it just looked like one. "What am I supposed to do with this?"_

"_It's a cyfeiriad" he said "It points to what you want most. If finding Neidr is what you really want this will point the way."_

"_Thank you." _

_He blinked in surprise and then whispered "Good luck."_

_Jennet was huddled in the corner, fortunately with no idea what had transpired (besides the fight) since she didn't speak El'lan. "Get my coffee" Jennet blinked at me "The brown liquid that isn't chocolate. Put it in a flask and bring it to me in the stable." If I tried to fly all I would do was land on my face which wouldn't do any one any good. Riding would give me the chance to catch a cat nap before I tested a theory. If I was wrong and Slief was right then Neidr was doomed. _

_I paused as I slipped the headstall over Hecate's dark ears. How did Slief know what the hobs planned to do with Neidr? Would the cyfeririad truly point the way to Neidr, or was I being led into a trap? Jennet and the breeze I had sent for arrived together as she handed me the flask of coffee I listened to the brief conversation._

_A jangle of lute strings as a song I didn't recognize was shattered (Puck! How did you get in here?)_

_(Your father was sadly mistaken in his belief that you would be safer here. A pity you didn't ask the young Prince to take you sailing, only there would you have been safe from his shattered bargain.)_

_(Your choice Neidr ap Unben a Lofrudd hold your wards another hour and your prince will ensure we can not take you. But we will be long away with your woman and your unborn son.)_

_I could hear him gulp (Swear to me you won't harm them if I let you take me)_

_(My word, boy, and it's better than your father's)_

_His voice cracked and trembled in fear as he acquiesced. The draig flared and I roared a challenge through the winter streets. No one invaded __**my**__ territory and terrorized my __**friend**__ without paying the price, __**no one**__. Puck Robin had better watch out because a Draig was about to come calling._

_I thanked Jennet and sent her on her way with assurances that I would do all that I could. I glanced back at the house. Jane's God wouldn't be able to save the Ellyllon in the house if they harmed Jennet while I was away. Best not to tempt them. I penned a quick message and whistled the little scallywag sparrow down from his perch. Time for him to earn his keep. I wrapped the note for Anuion around one leg and sent him off hoping that I'd gotten it through to his little bird brain that this was important. _

_I had Wind bear the howls of wolves to Hecate's ears and shaped Shadow so that she would only be able to see and thus flee along the path I had chosen. She would be broken by the time we reached our destination and that was a pity but I put a higher value on Neidr than I did even one of my precious blood stock. I closed my eyes to take what rest I could on the back of a racing horse. _

_I was jolted awake by Hecate falling to her knees blood flowing from her nose. She could take me no further and I put her out of her misery. Nearly there. A short run and I would know if I had killed a fine horse in vain. I took a gulp of cold, strong enough to strip rust, coffee letting it clear some of the cobwebs that too little rest had left. _

_I slipped down the embankment to the mynedfa, the passageway the gwragedd annwn used to pass from the Outlands back Under the Hill._

"_Ahchu" I always wanted to follow the water sprite's name with 'God bless you'. "Ahchu where are you?"_

_Luminous eyes blinked at me from the edge of the stream and he crept toward me dripping, slender silver scaly webbed fingers reaching out "Long time gone" he lisped through distinctly fishy lips. Dynol legend will tell you that the gwragedd annwn are all female which simply isn't true. The males just look more fish-like and aren't inclined to take dynol lovers. They also don't feed off dynol (or Ellyllon) life forces to become pregnant either. Personally I made a point of avoiding 'the lasses' since I preferred my blood in my veins._

"_My apologies" I said as I sent him to sleep. To the best of my knowledge no Ellyllon had attempted to play the Changeling trick with a cyfae but the mardeths had been trying for millennia to breach the Barrier without success so I wasn't going to be able to force my way through with brute strength. I rubbed the top of the cyfeiriad, last chance to turn back. And __**if**__ I succeeded someone was going to go tattling that I had breached the Barrier. For all I knew that was treason. No one would ever know if I turned back now and claimed that breaching the Barrier was beyond my skill, no one but me. My sister's screams were enough to haunt my dreams I didn't need to add Neidr's despairing terror to my nightmares. Henry thought I didn't leave anyone behind because it wasn't in my nature. I knew better. I had left someone behind and I knew the __guilt__. I was too much of a coward to accrue any more. The one person you can't run from is yourself. Besides I was entirely too furious to back down now. _

_I was going to have to BE Ahchu so deeply that the Barrier believed I was him which meant I was going to have to intentionally fall into trechu. I'd spent my whole life being trained how to keep myself separate from the person I was replacing __could__ I lose myself in Ahchu? And how was I supposed to get myself back in time to be any good to Neidr? Jane's sweet Jesus but this was one of the stupidest plans I'd ever hatched but I had no better ideas. So how was I to make certain that I came out of trechu the instant I was free of the Barrier? I couldn't have Wind remind me because the Winds of the Outlands could only cross the Barrier with the invitation of the King and the same went for Sea. Or did it? Each puff of Wind had separate awareness but water was One. No, a great tide couldn't cross into Avalon but that didn't mean I couldn't have Her contact me on the other side. Maybe. Any port in a storm. I reached out._

_(Are you coming back to me soon?)_

_(Soon. I need your help.)_

_(Anything) it was a caress._

_(I have to save a friend) a flash of jealousy (and I have to cross the Barrier to do it) _

_Fear/anger (I can't go there) She hissed. _

_(But you ARE there) I replied. _

_(Weak) She answered (Too weak to help)_

_(But not to speak to me?)_

_Confusion (No)_

_(I need you to ignore me until I am past the Barrier and then call to me. Can you do that for me, please? And tell Peregrine to come as close as he can to here.)_

_(Danger?!)_

_(Maybe, do not come unless I call, but be ready)_

_(Always) I took a deeper breath as She fed me strength and reached out for Ahchu, crafting Shadow and sinking into a mind alien to my own. _

_In confusion I turned back the way I had just come. Why was I going home? The Lady of the Lake had set me a task in the Outlands but I couldn't remember what it was. I would have to go back to the Lady and ask. Except she would be wroth with me for forgetting. No, I should just keep going. I would remember when I found it. Except how would I know that I had found it if I didn't know what it was? I spun in a circle torn between going back and going back? I clutched my head and decided I had to go back. The Lady would know what was the matter with me. Soon the Barrier was rippling before me. I paused to study it since it was my first… Poppycock!! I had been coming in going through the Barrier on my Lady's bidding for over three thousand years as the world above reckoned time. I started to brush past only to have the Barrier ripple over me in jangling discord. I pushed harder and tumbled through._

_(Rhys?) Sea's voice was the faintest of whispers but it was enough and I shook off a little of Ahchu trying to keep as much as I could since I would need to repeat the trick to get back out with Neidr. I flipped open the not-a-compass and found a heading. No matter how much I wanted to look around I had no time and dashed off at my top speed. The strange twilight fog shrouded the terrain as I raced by hurtling rocks and ducking strange twisted branches that rose up out of the gloom. Odd, I could FEEL myself getting closer through the cyfeiriad. I wished I'd had some time to test it since I didn't want to go plunging in headlong if I could avoid it. A panicked, nearly insane howl in a far too familiar baritone came from directly in front of me. I tried for more speed but I was already out of breath. I burst through the ring of standing stones with Mannwan's long black dagger in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. Icy cold, colder than the winds from the great southern continent, cold enough that it hurt to breath and the mist from my breath turned to sleet in the air. Neidr was bound, still naked, to a stone table with something my eyes couldn't quite seem to fix on hovering over him. Being shorter than the table I couldn't see him all that well but he had gone completely silent and motionless. I hurled the throwing knife which passed through the difabyd with out effect. I roared at it and was ignored. Alright, time to take the fight to the beast. I vaulted onto the table. Neidr had a pulse but only just, and his enaid, I actually breathed a prayer to Jane's God, his enaid was the gray of a winter sky and fragile as gossamer. I had to get this thing off of him and I had to do it __**now**__. But how to do it without it doing this to me? _

_I knew from my link with Jane what fingers numb with cold felt like but MINE had never done it before. I Called Fire, driving back the icy cold. The difabyd looked at me and I could taste its hunger. I jumped off the stone and it followed. The edges of its shadowy being caused the air to ripple as it sucked in whatever ambient heat remained in the air. I gave ground before it not wanting to ward myself since that would merely send it back to finish of Neidr. The others had been certain that you couldn't fight this thing but lone Ellyllon didn't survive pitched battles with mardeths either (I firmly ignored the fact that I technically hadn't either) and started trying to come up with a plan. The problem was I knew essentially NOTHING about my adversary. With the mardeth I had at least known the basics. _

"_Perhaps we could come to an understanding" I said graciously while still backing up. At least the thing hadn't rushed me yet and I had caught my breath. I knew those ten mile runs I'd added to my regime after the mardeth would come in handy someday. "Is there something you would take in exchange for allowing my friend and I to depart without further harm?" No reply it just maintained its steady approach. Apparently not much given to conversation. Why was it I always seemed to end up facing the monsters? I knew from every Ellyllon I'd ever spoken to that there were plenty of pleasant cyfae who weren't automatically interested in doing you grievous bodily harm. So why didn't I ever meet any of them? Well, granted, Ahchu was a nice enough chap and by all reports while the 'lasses' who took blood when they wanted to bear a child they never killed to do it and the men certainly hadn't complained of the exchange. I nearly tripped over a tree root but the difabyd didn't bother to rush forward it simply continued in its measured advance. Since Fire was near to hand I flung all that I could muster. It fell back as the edges of my vision darkened. I dropped to my knees, exhausted. I took a gulp of coffee from the flask and froze as it started moving forward again. Damn. I was convinced I could destroy it with Fire if only I could call up enough. But not now, God, I was so tired. I cast a Shadow of myself dashing off to the right. The thing turned and followed. I had rarely felt so relieved in my life. _

_I loped back to Neidr whose condition had at least gotten no worse. I sliced the bindings and reached out to heal. The physical damage, though extensive, was easy. I couldn't really throw stones since I'd just smashed Eidion's face into the floor a few hours ago but I wasn't impressed that the hobs apparently didn't mind kicking an Ellyllon when he was already down and curled up trying to protect his face. His hands were a mess, not nearly as bad a Lluniwer's but someone had given them a good smashing. All in all I'd taken worse beatings from Skeffington but the hobs hadn't been kind by any stretch of the imagination. I kept the Shadow dashing this way and that as I put him back together hoping that the difabyd didn't weary of the pursuit before I could get Neidr moving again because he was too bloody tall for me to carry. They'd drugged him too, not with something I was familiar with, probably something native to Avalon. I cleared it out of him and he just blinked listlessly at me. _

"_Come on" I tugged at him trying to get him moving "before that thing decides to come back and finish what it started."_

_He didn't even try to move, didn't even react, he just sat there looking dazed and despairing. What had Slief said about the difabyd? Drainers of life, devourers of hope. Given how my day had been going I didn't have a lot of hope to spare but I had something almost as good. I had the Shadow draw the difabyd even further off, pulled him close, linked my own enaid to his, praying that I'd done it right since I hadn't exactly been in the best of positions to observe what Argellion was doing the night the night the mardeth had (briefly and thanks to Argellion's quick thinking not permanently) killed me, and then invoked anghofrwdd, the forgetting, which reduced the enaid to its prime emotion, in my case to purest, unsullied, joy. Nadir drew in a sharp breath, the heart beating directly into the ear I had laying against his bare chest finally surging to its proper rhythm and then picking up its pace to a bit beyond. Good. I brought us both back to the here and damn depressing now. _

"_My prince?" his voice was rough. That scream I heard must not have been his first. Clearly I was the absolute last thing he expected to see and he was having trouble. Actually he was just having trouble period. At least his enaid was not longer fraying at the edges but it was still predominantly grey with only the faintest wash of blue and no violet or red at all. _

"_I thought you were in Spain." _

_I checked on the difabyd. Damn it hadn't turned back this way yet but it wasn't following the Shadow anymore either. We really, really needed to get moving._

"_I was."_

"_You shouldn't be here." He frowned clearly his mainsail was not yet catching the wind._

"_**WE**__ shouldn't be here" I corrected bracing my feet and pulling him up._

_He blinked at his hands "You healed me. You shouldn't do that."_

"_Yes, I've heard. You can lecture me on the gorffwyll and how healers shouldn't be killers and how it causes madness, magical instability, and plagues of locusts just as soon as we get back to London."_

_His brow furrowed "Plagues of locusts? I don't recall any plagues of locusts."_

_It was turning in our direction no matter what I did with the Shadow. I gave him a shove back towards the Lake._

"_Why are you here?"_

_He was really fixated on why, wasn't he? "You told Jennet she could ask me for anything in your absence, well, she asked for you."_

_Flickers of violet at her name "__**Jennet**__ loves you and __**Jennet**__ wants you to come with me."_

"_Oh, well in that case, lead on." I __**knew**__ there was absolutely nothing physically wrong with him but he was profoundly __**not**__ right. I covered us in the thickest Shadow I could devise and started back. We hadn't gone far when he sat down on a rock starring out at nothing._

"_Neidr" flickers of blue at his name but his enaid wasn't regaining its normal hue "We need to keep moving." I was tired enough to curl up on the rock next to him but I didn't know where the difabyd was and the Wind here was reluctant to speak to me. Now that we'd stopped darkness started curling in on the edges of my vision. I grabbed the flask, took another gulp of coffee, and passed it to Neidr. Who nearly gagged "Swallow" I barked putting some of the Draig behind it. His eyes were watering when he looked up, sissy._

"_What is that?" He wrapped an arm around his belly "I think it's eating a hole in my stomach." The complaint made me feel a bit more optimistic. In my experience people who are about to die rarely complain about the drinks. _

"_It's coffee from Arabia."_

"_It's wretched."_

"_It's not supposed to be brewed thick enough to chew" I said._

"_Then why on earth did you?" he snapped, peevish which was a vast improvement over the slightly vacant husk I'd been herding across the landscape. _

"_Because it's all that's keeping me from sleeping on my feet."_

"_My feet hurt" he said softly, "Did you bring my boots?"_

_Damn but that was __**sloppy**__ of me. I'd KNOWN they drug him off naked I SHOULD have remembered to bring some clothes. I yanked my ruined doublet over my head and split it neatly with my knife. I laid the blade aside and started binding one half around his foot. I'd just finished one and started the other when I caught Neidr picking up the knife out of the corner of my eye. Slowed by weariness I missed my first grab and ended up catching the dagger __through__ the palm of my hand to keep it out of his breast._

_I forced his head round to look at me with the hand that wasn't dripping blood "Neidr, Neidr, what are you doing?"_

"_It's all gone dark, forever and ever and ever and ever and ever" he almost sang it in a haunting echo._

_I smacked him lightly, "No it __**hasn't**__**Neidr! **__That's not you talking. It's that thing back there." I waved the bisected hand which sent blood flying. Sloppy. I was sloppy all the way round tonight. I yanked the knife out of my hand, healed it… Neidr had hold of me and I was curled against his chest. Neidr couldn't move that fast. I was too quick for him to grab me without me seeing him coming. _

"_My prince?" he sounded worried as he gave me a little shake. He kissed the hand I'd caught the dagger with and I snatched it back. _

"_Save that for Jennet" I growled and he graced me with a flicker of a grin. _

"_I'm sorry."_

"_Don't be sorry. Don't do it again and get your ass off that damn rock before that thing catches..." Well speak of the devil. This time I didn't need to urge Neidr. Finally, finally he started moving of his own accord. It didn't take us long to lengthen the gap again. Thank the Draigs the thing wasn't fast even if it was relentless. _

_Neidr was pulling me to my feet, except I didn't remember stopping. He tried to carry me but I shook him off, took three long gulps from the nearly empty flask, and charged ahead. We were nearly back to the Lake and with it the Barrier. I didn't know if the Barrier would stop it or not but I would be a damn site happier on my home ground where I could call Sea for backup since I didn't think either of us could ward off a stiff breeze right now. I glanced back but the difabyd was far behind. We were going to make it. I nearly ran into Neidr's back. Oh, that just wasn't bloody fair!_

_Ahchu didn't look happy with me at all but that wasn't what worried me. It was the entire troop of soldiers between us and our only escape that was the real problem. And I'd just been thinking that the Gwragedd Annwn were decent sorts. Silly me. The Lady of the Lake stepped out from behind her soldiers. It isn't often I come face to face with someone nearly as beautiful as I am. _

"_You have wronged one of my people boy."_

_I tossed my head ready to claim my rank but she laid a finger to her lips "You don't want to do that, not here, not now. This is not yet your hour. Diflin we shall call thee until another name is granted thee."_

_Diflin, dauntless, indefatigable. The way I felt right now that wavered on being an outright lie but I could do worse for a nickname (say Ears or Brat or Maggot for instance) and took the compliment with good grace._

"_Perhaps, Milady would care to discuss this at a more opportune time?"_

"_There is no time more opportune for thee. The trick thou playest to enter will not serve thee in thy escape, the Puck knows someone has stolen his prize, thou might keep thyself safe from the difabyd but thou wouldst either have to sacrifice thy companion or fall with him, and thy father knows thou hast crossed the Barrier and hast sent a Wild Hunt to fetch thee." Neidr's breath caught in his throat at the last two._

"_What does Milady propose?"_

"_A trade, I will forgive thee the abuse of my servant and will see thee safely across the Barrier."_

"_And what is Milady's price?"_

_She laid a glittering silver hand to her slender waist "It has been over a thousand years as the world above reckons it since I last bore a child."_

_I bowed "Milady flatters me but I am far too young"_

_She laughed a sound like the finest bells ringing "While we let mortal men have their sport in exchange for what we need it is the men of our own kind that sire our young. I need but a pint of thy Blood young Diflin."_

"_Why mine?" Neidr shifted impatiently behind me._

"_Because the quality of the blood is as important as the parents to our children. I will bear a fine son indeed from thy gift."_

"_You assume you have an accord do not be so swift to judge the matter settled."_

"_My prince" Neidr hissed behind me. Easy for him to acquiesce, he wasn't the one about to become dinner for the world's biggest, loveliest mosquito. _

"_I ask for nothing from you that a few days rest will not restore. Did I misname thee?"_

"_You have spoken of me but not of my companion" I said more firmly than I felt._

"_The Puck will not be easily turned aside. You do yourself no favors if you take him with you."_

"_No one gets left behind" I growled "I will deal with the Puck. And you may have what you seek if you agree to do all that is within you power for my companion in addition to the promises you have made to me."_

_She bowed low "I can not grant thee thy rank but thou art worthy of it. It will be as you say." With a wave of her hands the soldiers passed us by. She turned first to Neidr and cupped his chin in her hands. The gray wasn't completely banished and he still had no reds but his normal rich blue returned, not in its usual force but what came stayed and violet flickered around the edges. Not well but a thousand times better than when I had cut him loose from the table. She had said this was only about blood (and I know I'm exquisite but why is it everyone seems to want to take a bite out of me?) but something in the way she moved had me blushing furiously. I could see Neidr's lips twitching as he fought not to smile at my discomfiture. If I hadn't been so glad to see him capable of smiling I'd have hit him. _

_She leaned down and whispered "If it makes thee more comfortable thou canst wrap us in Shadow." _

_I did exactly that before whispering back "Can he heal?"_

"_Only rarely has anyone escaped the difabyd but some have and recovered, some have not. Much depends on what strength they had before and even more on the tenacity of those who choose to stand beside them in need." She turned my face to hers and in the instant she breathed on me I was adrift in a pleasure more intense than even chocolate could grant…_

Mallory wasn't the only one blushing I knew that feeling only too well but I wouldn't have thought Mallory was old enough… I think Commodore Norrington was even more scarlet than I was.

"Precocious little tyke" Jack commented "Read on whelp. Captain's orders."

"Captain Sparrow I really must protest" the Governor began but Jack cut him off.

"I'm not being superfluously salacious" Jack turned sharp, hungry eyes on me "What did ye say killed Argellion, whelp?"

I could see in his eyes that Jack remembered quite well but the Commodore and the Governor hadn't been present for that conversation. At least I didn't bawl this time when I answered "The difabyd."

"And what did me brother nearly do right after he destroyed the bleeding lot o'them?"

"He nearly slaughtered himself on a dagger I forged."

"Interesting coincidence wouldn't ye say that Neidr nearly did the same? Me brother is no fool, he should o' remembered and been on his guard." He half turned and barked "Mr. Gibbs quit loitering and fetch Bootstrap down here! Double quick."

"Now, whelp have ye looked at Neidr, particularly about the eyes?"

Mallory's entire focus had been on Neidr's enaid so, no, I hadn't really but a quick glance down at one of the previous passages revealed what Jack was shooting for, the circles under his eyes were so dark they nearly looked like Jack's kohl lined ones and they had sunk deep into their sockets. I glanced up as my father entered.

"There's something I want yer opinion o' Bill. Whelp read the bit where he almost smiles again. Pay attention te the Ellyllon not the enaid."

I parsed it quickly and glanced up at my father.

"He looks like Mallory did just afore the wedding."

"Does he now?" Jack looked back at the Governor. "Those things" Jack stressed the plural "attacked me brother a few years ago and while he did for them they nearly did for him as well. They hit him and they hit him hard when he was already wounded. I don't give a rat's arse for yer 'propriety' when I have a chance te see what worked and what didn't only the only other survivor that I know of, savvy?"

"Well, quite right" the Governor muttered "carry on, carry on."

_I nearly whimpered a protest when at long last and far too soon she drew back daintily blotting a single drop from her lips. My eyes slid shut and I swayed a little but a steadying hand braced me before I could fall. Languidly I listened to them speaking above me completely disinterested as I basked in the heady glow that remained behind._

"_Don't you think he's a bit __**young**__ for this?" Neidr's voice trembled with anger "He is barely more than an infant!"_

_The Lady's reply was chagrined "I did not intend to go so far, troth it should not have been possible. If you wish to blame someone blame the policies of your former King who sent him to live above. It is hardly my fault if the mind and enaid are decades more mature than they have any right to be. Or if someone else has committed an abomination." Her hands touched me again, 'oh please take as much as you want' I wanted to whisper but she only belted something around my waist. How disappointing. _

"_Milady, may one inquire why? That blade belongs to the Blood but not to him."_

"_He will need it to balance the other. Risanca stirs."_

_A gasp from Neidr I tried to force myself to pay attention and his hands bit into my shoulders hard enough to hurt as he either stepped forward or pulled me toward him almost as if he meant to protect me. "You must be mistaken. Too young, far, __**far**__, too young" it was nearly a plea._

"_He was too young for this too" Her fingers on my throat were a line of fire and I opened my eyes to drink in hers, eager. But she merely placed a chaste kiss on my brow "No more, brave Diflin, thou art hard run already and I will not do thee lasting harm." If I had had the strength I'd have risen and followed her to the ends of the earth but I didn't so I watched her every movement until she was out of sight._

_Neidr tried to ruffle my hair but it was too tightly braided "Way to go, Dihrin." _

_He started to pick me up but I shook off the languor and glared at him "Dihrin?" My voice sound thick, slow, and unfocused. _

"_It fits better than Diflin" he defended looking completely unrepentant as he sat down so we would be eye to eye. I'd completely missed him getting dressed but then I'd been rather thoroughly distracted. Dihrin was essentially a diminutive of Diflin and literally meant 'scrappy' but colloquially I knew meant roughly 'more balls than brains'. He looked after the Lady with something that was half longing half leer "I was standing there thinking 'What a waste. After a thousand years of every male in Avalon hoping he'd be the one, the honor goes to a virginal boy too young to even dream of what he's not going to get." I'd seen that kind grin before but never directed at me. The kind of congratulatory smile men gave their 'pals' when they had triumphed. I didn't have 'pals' I barely had friends. "But despite being way, way too young you got rolled and rolled HARD." The grin faded as silver lighting crackled through his enaid and for the first time I watched the Draig rise in someone else's eyes "Who abused you?" He'd grabbed my upper arms hard enough that my frail bones protested. That was a rather long list depending on how you were defining abuse. Skeffington certainly, and Cromwell had played enough mind games with me that I'd call it abuse._

"_What do you mean?"_

_He gave me a little shake "Who buggered you? If you haven't already beaten me to it I'm going to rip off his balls and force feed them to him."_

_I shook my head, "No one. No one has ever touched me in that manner."_

"_It's alright, little one" I wanted to bristled at that but he seemed so worried and furious that (and while I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself and everyone else I was touched he cared) I let it pass "I'm certain it wasn't your fault. But men, beasts, like that don't deserve to draw breath."_

"_Neidr, really, truly, honestly, I have NEVER been buggered."_

_He frowned growing MORE worried "Sometimes if an experience is too terrible the mind blocks it out" he sighed and bloody hugged me! I reminded myself that he had had a very trying day and I would render all my efforts for naught if I gutted him myself "Listen to me very carefully. LOOK at my enaid. I. Have. Never. Been. Buggered." _

"_You're good enough with Shadow to hide it."_

"_So now I've hidden something that I don't even remember happened?" He was spoiling the glow left by the Lady. "And what makes you think something like that occurred?"_

"_Because a Gwrgedd Annwn can't roll a true virgin and you're not even INTERESTED in the ladies yet, Dihrin. So if you haven't been buggered how on earth were you open to her up here?" He tapped my forehead challengingly. _

_I arched a brow "You think I'm innocent with you lot around?"_

_He shook his head "Not enough."_

"_I'd say the evidence says otherwise."_

_He wasn't convinced and was mightily confused. Ahchu cleared this throat "The passage through the Barrier can only be held so long."_

_I'd forgotten this night wasn't over yet. I was past tired, weary, and exhausted and in that state in which the body pushed past all reasonable limits simply seems to drift of its own accord while the mind skips and bobs in a place between reality and dreams. I followed Neidr since I refused to be carried out into the blazing light of mid-day. I giggled drawing a worried look from Neidr. The night WAS over, long since over. Someone should be here to meet us shouldn't there? I thought I remembered ordering Anuion to come with fresh horses. The sparrow must have gone astray. The world seemed to stretch and bend around me. I wished it would stop. _

_(Peregrine is near) Sea whispered (with the girl and the other aboard)._

_Then the sparrow hadn't failed his mission. Something was wrong; in the instant that knowledge filtered through my sluggish brain the hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention. Amseru, someone was working time. I couldn't do it myself but I'd spent enough time with Blaenu to feel it happening. I tripped Neidr since he was in my way and flung one of my knives in the direction of the disturbance. It took the time bending hobgoblin in the upper shoulder. In a dynol it would be an awkward but not fatal wound. I had no idea what it would do in a hobgoblin but from the shrieking it hurt. I spun and the world kept right on spinning after I stopped most unpleasantly. Neidr regained his feet and said something to me. I could see his mouth moving but could hear no words. Anuion, Anuion should be here and he wasn't which meant the hobs had him. That was very sloppy of someone. Neidr's attention snapped to something to his right._

"_You've gotten your pint of blood and pound of flesh, Puck. What more do you want?"_

"_Your father named you as the bond for his word. You're mine boy, to destroy, enslave, or set free as I please." I blinked trying to bring the world back into focus. Oh, that was dirt, I must have collapsed. Very sloppy of me. Puck Robin would have to step around me to get to Neidr. I tried to marshal my waning strength but I was run nearly as dry as that night against the mardeth and nothing answered. No, no, no, no, I protested not now. My fingers brushed the belt the Lady and fastened round my waist wrapping around the hilt of what could only be a sword._

_(I am Caladwlch, the Sword of Kings) it whispered to my mind. I didn't much care. It had power folded into its steel and I drew on it. Lying perfectly still as the Puck stepped contemptuously around me I uncoiled in a blur tackling him from behind and putting a blade to his throat. I tried to throw up a few wards but came up empty; I cast Shadows of them instead and hoped that the hobs were deceived. I was surprised (but carefully didn't show it) when real wards, shaky, wane ones, but wards never the less gave substance to my illusions I hadn't thought Neidr had it in him at the moment. I must be a bad influence. If he kept it up I'd have a rival for the title of most overextended idiot. Of course wards for Neidr were like Shadow, Sea, and Fire for me they just __**came**_

"_I'm reasonably certain" I hissed "that I can slit your throat before you can unleash anything against me."_

"_Diflin indeed" he said "And what price do you put on the Hobgoblin?"_

"_Neidr" I tossed him one of my other blades praying he wouldn't use it on himself "get the other hobgoblin."_

"_Life for life. I will grant you your life and the life of your servant in exchange for the safe return of my servant Anuion, my property, your release of all further holds on Neidr and your word you will take no vengeance for this night nor request another to attack in proxy."_

_He said nothing until I turned the blade a bit drawing blood._

"_Done. Agreed. Release the Ellyllon." I glanced up to see a very chagrined, tightly bound and gagged Anuion emerge from the trees. The other hobs cut him free and led the horses forward._

_Puck Robin chortled as I let him up. "Don't you hear them boy or are you too addled with diffygoil? The Wild hunt is coming. I don't need to take vengeance on you." Still laughing he and the hobs melted away. I whistled and Bran trotted forward, kneeling so I could clamber aboard._

"_Fly" Neidr barked at me "Go, we'll hold them." _

"_No one gets left behind" the words echoed oddly twisting and cavorting in the air. Neidr cursed as he and Anuion mounted. I kicked Bran into a breakneck gallop toward the place Sea told me Peregrine was waiting but the hunt was close and they were in position to cut us off. The wild ride was a blur as I just tried to stay on the horse._

_We burst out of the bare trees just as the hunt came at us from the left across the dead fields. Sea hadn't mentioned the __cliff__ between us and Peregrine. I wailed to Her long past the ability to think in words, clinging with the dregs of my strength to Bran's mane. She answered with a great column of water that raised the boat even with the land. We leapt the railing the horses hooves skidding across the deck as water formed a wall around us. I blinked dumbly at Neidr as he stared at me in awe before darkness rose up and swallowed me. _

_Yelling, lots of yelling, lots of voices. Something bitter in my mouth. Gagging. Bright sun. Persistent hands making me drink, begging me to. Darkness. _

_The slap of waves against the hull. The whisper of Sea. Moonlight through the cabin window. Warm breath against the crown of my head, a steady heartbeat beneath my ear. Darkness._

_(RHYS!!!) Peregrine shrieking, desperate. Lips against my own, was Neidr kissing me, __again__? It tasted like it. Fingers on my wrist. Flicker of candlelight against my eyelids. "I've got a pulse" Anuion worried but relieved. Darkness._

"_Come on, come on" something warm and not bitter against my lips, uncalloused but strong hands supporting my head as I lay against someone's chest. My eyelids felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds each but I forced them open. Neidr looked like hell. The sun was rising._

"_Good morning" he said a weary smile flitting across his features. It nearly reached his eyes "Now be a good lad and drink this for me." I wanted to snarl at him but it smelled exquisite and tasted better but I was too tired to take more than a few sips. Darkness._

_Something was thumping rather persistently under my ear. My eyelids were nearly back to their normal weight and I slid them open to find myself face to face with a sleeping Jennet. A quick roll of the eyes upward confirmed my suspicions that I was sleeping on Neidr's chest which meant the thumping was his heart. Nice regular rhythm. No worries then. Darkness._

"_Will he be alright?" Jennet whispered. _

_A cheek pressed briefly to my forehead, a hand holding me in place while the body under me shifted into a more comfortable position, "I think so. He's survived this long and looks to be improving rapidly." Warm breath against my ear "Do you hear me Dihrin? Don't you __**dare**__ die on me now."_

"_Perfectly. I'll live if you live" I challenged as I raised my head "Do we have an accord?"_

_Neidr swallowed, eyes haunted, still no red in his enaid, not even a touch of pink "We have an accord." I'd heard more enthusiastic agreements in my time but I'd take what I could get._

_I rolled off of him and onto the floor. He caught me before my legs could give out under me the cabin spinning again. "Gently, gently, you aren't nearly well." He picked me up as if I weighed nothing (which wasn't far from the truth) and set me back on the bed, tucking the covers around me. "Now back to sleep" he admonished. Darkness._

_Voices in my cabin. Neidr and Anuion speaking softly, their silver and gold heads both bent over something on my desk. Neidr's glance flickered to me and seeing me awake he sent Anuion on some errand. I stretched, stiff and sore, and sat up. _

"_How long?"_

"_Almost four days" flashes of silver. Odd until that moment when he thought someone had used me ill I'd never seen Neidr angry, granted I'd almost never seen him sober either. Chocolate made it rather difficult to be angry, to even hold onto a train of thought long enough to get annoyed. "You seem to know something of the gorffwyll, what do you know of the diffygoil?"_

"_A dangerous and often fatal condition caused by performing too much magic while in a state of physical exhaustion."_

_He nodded physically going very still while the silver grew "If you __**knew**__ that then why the hell did you do it to yourself?" He was angry, coldly, no, icily angry with me._

_I shrugged "Because the alternative was unthinkable."_

_He looked like I'd kicked him in the gut, "Do not __**EVER**__, do you __**HEAR ME**__**EVER**__ push that hard again."_

"_I'll be fine."_

_He hit the desk so hard the wood complained as he pushed to his feet to tower over me, "Fine?! __**Fine**__? Do you know why I spent __**three days**__ with you lying on my breast? Because we didn't __**dare**__ leave you unattended for an instant. You were so exhausted that you would sink into a sleep so deep you __**stopped**__ bloody __**breathing**__ if someone wasn't there to jostle you back from the edge. And three times I had to breathe __**for**__ you because you were too depleted to do it on your own." He was all but screaming in my face hands balled into fists and I couldn't help it, I cringed braced for the blows._

_He sucked in a breath staring at me "Who beat you?" That anger was abruptly no longer directed at me._

"_I already got him" I said softly and studying my fingernails (I'd broken four saving him you would think the least he could do if he was going to cuddle me for the aforementioned days was file them. I did at least appear to be clean which was something of a relief not that I wouldn't mind another good soak) continued "I didn't really mean to go so far it just sort of happened."_

_He made a skeptical sound and ruffled my hair. This time since it wasn't braided it went every which way. My shoulders tensed up. Sloppy gets you killed._

"_You need to take better care of yourself, Dihrin" Anuion chose that moment to return with a tray. Oh Draigs I had never been so ravenous. _

_Until now, Mallory-in-the-carchar noted dryly with a mix of chagrin and amusement at the memory of his younger self._

_I paused half of what Anuion had brought already messily devoured and stared at my fingers. Eating with my fingers, I had been…I shivered I might as well have gone 'whole hog' and just gone face down in it. Yuck, my fingers were all icky._

_Neidr snickered and suggested "You could lick them clean." I glared at him and the snicker turned into a laugh. I was torn between being furious that anyone would DARE to laugh at me and being intrigued. It wasn't a cruel laugh though it did rather convey that he thought I was being an idiot. Gently mocking again in the manner of 'pals' but then Neidr had been flirting with the edges of that since the beginning with his complete lack of deference. He tossed me one of my crimson handkerchiefs but I ignored it in favor of washing my hands thoroughly, filing my nails, braiding my hair, and generally putting myself back in order. I was chasing a bit of lint when Neidr commented with dry amusement "I should have nick named you cathfach."_

_**Kitten**__?! Oh, that was going __several__ steps too far. I whirled on him ready to…oh, hell, he'd just had his enaid nearly sucked dry by that thing. I should be overjoyed that he was capable of teasing. I should be ecstatic that we were both still alive. I should not be annoyed. Most importantly, I was still too hungry to kill him before finishing breakfast. It really had nothing to do with the fact that the cabin was beginning to spin again, honestly. I primly settled back into my chair and finished the meal like a civilized being._

"_Why?" he whispered when I finished._

"_What is it with you and why?" I countered._

"_Actually it's you and why. Everyone else I can figure out."_

_Unpredictability was by no means a bad thing and it troubled me not at all that Neidr was confused. _

"_So" he crossed his arms over his chest all traces of humor gone "why am I still alive? Why did you damn near kill yourself saving me?"_

_I wasn't certain I had the strength to actually lie to another Ellyllon right now. To a dynol, easily, glibly, but lying to someone who could see an enaid took work._

"_We're both alive, what does it matter?"_

"_It matters Dihrin. Don't pretend you weren't frightened more than once out there." He toyed with the pages to one of my medical treatises – what on earth had he and Anuion wanted with them? "I never would have come, no other Ellyllon of the court would have either. And even if I had I would have left you behind if our places had been reversed once the situation looked hopeless."_

"_Mannwan would have" I countered with absolute conviction and he had __**NOT**__ come alone that night with the mardeth._

"_House Glanio is a special case" an arch of the brow and a flick of the ears in surprise "Are you actually following the example of Glanio?" He blinked and nearly bit his tongue to keep from saying something "So that is where Mannwan, Argellion, and the others disappeared to. Mannwan would also have drummed your importance as the lone surviving heir into your head as well so it is __**not **__Glanio's notion of honor that sent you headlong into danger." Those sharp red eyes glittered unwilling to be turned aside. _

"_I already told you, no one gets left behind" I wasn't lying and Neidr could see it. He just couldn't understand it. _

"_But why?" _

_And they say mules are stubborn. Damn, not NOW, it usually only happened at night but every now and then the memory of the angheuol and what I had let happen to my sister overwhelmed me even in my waking mind. I desperately tossed a Shadow around myself but Neidr slapped it down as it was forming. I didn't know you could do that. My surprise was nearly enough to rattle the memory but it was suspiciously persistent and I wondered if Neidr was doing something. Not fair. He might not have regained his normal reds but clearly his strength had returned more swiftly than my own. I could feel my breath coming more quickly as I fought not to panic. She was right behind us with Her wild silver eyes and dark green hair. No. She. Wasn't. It was __**years**__ ago, nearly __**decades**__ ago and I was not going to sit here and hyperventilate in front of Neidr. _

"_I'm sorry" he said kneeling in front of me "I'm sorry. Damn it just answer the question."_

_I pushed at him but he didn't budge. He didn't have the grym a Draig and apparently neither did I at the moment. I opened my mouth to curse him convinced now that he'd done something but I couldn't seem to remember how to speak. Not a sound, not a one, She'll hear. I bolted but She had me! She had me! She had me! I fought with everything I had but She didn't let go. _

"_What are you doing to him?!" someone shouted and for a second the world changed to a little room with black boards. _

"_Shut the damn door, don't let him out."_

_I slammed into the wood and spun as I saw both the angheuol and my cabin aboard the Peregrine but I could feel myself slipping back into the memory of the angheuol no matter how hard I tried to remind myself that it wasn't real. _

"_What the hell did you do to him?" Anuion snarled hand on the hilt of his sword._

"_The dweud y gwir" Neidr blurted "But I've never seen it do __**this**__."_

"_Get it the hell off him."_

"_I can't" Neidr nearly wailed "he has to answer the question."_

_That could be a bit of a problem since I couldn't seem to remember how to speak and all I could see was Her and abruptly all I could hear were the screams._

"_Come on, kid, come back to us" Neidr begged._

"_Get your hands off me" I growled and proceeded to call him every filthy name I could think of in the dozens of languages I spoke. It took awhile and he just sat across from me head down not understanding the words but surely interpreting the intent. "Why the hell does a race that can't lie have a truth spell? And you had better have a damn good reason for using it on me or I am going to carve your heart out of your chest and force feed it to you."_

"_We can't lie but we can evade or stay silent." So I'd essentially been put through the magical equivalent of peine forte et dure, being pressed to plead. The weights were kinder. I caught his eyes and bored into them with my own._

"_Why?"_

"_To save both our lives." He meant that and it didn't do a thing to mollify my rage._

"_From what?"_

"_Your father" he swallowed hard "There will be a great many questions when I return with Eidion" long pause._

"_You're taking him back to Avalon to recover?" I prompted._

"_To bury."_

_Oops, how terribly annoying of him and sloppy of me. "I wouldn't have thought the death of a glyw of House Nerth would rate an inquiry."_

_Neidr waved a hand "That you killed him after he challenged you will be no cause for censure, troth had you shown clemency I would have even more explaining to do. Eidion is less than nothing. I'm certain you know quite well that I was sent to spy on you" he took a breath and licked his lips "I thought I would have years, perhaps decades, but events have caught up to us both. Draigs, boy, you took out an adult grym a Draig in a purely physical fight, breached the Barrier, robbed both the Puck and a difabyd of their rightful prey, and eluded a Wild Hunt. You did three 'impossible' and two damnably improbable things in a single night. I'm going to have to answer how and why and I'm going to have to do it well enough that you aren't ordered removed 'for the good of the realm'. And I'm not you. I can't lie."_

_So Neidr had figured out that I did. Not even Argellion had picked up on that which made for a fourth 'impossible'. _

"_You could have simply explained that" I said icily._

_He shrugged not meeting my gaze "Boy, trying to get a straight answer out of you is like pulling teeth…your own…through your nose."_

"Ain't that just the bloody truth" Jack grumbled but I ignored him.

"_I needed the truth and I needed to know it was the truth. I swear by the Draigs I never even dreamed it would do what it did to you. Please forgive me, I never EVER meant to harm you."_

_I wasn't ready to forgive him. I wasn't even certain I wasn't still ready to force feed him selected bits of his anatomy. "So did you get the truth?" All the little fishes in the Sea but I could still hear her screams ringing in the cabin. Left her, I'd __**left**__ her._

"_Hey" I bit him when he tried to grab my shoulders. Granted I was curled up in the far corner of the cabin trembling and rocking. That did not give the traitorous bastard the right to touch me._

_He yelped in surprise and then hissed in pain "Can I have my hand back if I promise not to try touching you again?" I sank my teeth in just a little further before releasing his bloodied offending appendage. He grimaced before getting the handkerchief I'd ignored earlier and wrapping it around the rents. "Never would have taken you for a biter as fussy as you are" he tried to tease but it fell into the abyss between us and he sighed._

"_Yes, I figured it out and apparently that's enough for the spell. Twins. When my father told me where I was going and why I figured the announcement about a girl was a lie. We can certainly lie on paper or by proxy. But it wasn't was it? There were two of you and you ended up watching her die. So now you won't leave anyone else behind." He started to reach out again and then thought better of it. "Don't blame yourself. Don't. There wasn't a damn thing you could have done but die with her. You want to blame someone you blame" he nearly bit his tongue not finishing that thought. _

_I tucked my knees up to my chest and set my chin on them "I should have done __**something**__."_

"_There was nothing, __**NOTHING**__ you could have done. It took over twenty of us to subdue Eiluned. Someday if you keep going at the clip you are you're going to leave her in the dust for strength but right now she's still the strongest Ellyllon to ever live and you were a yearling child. Draigs, Dihrin"_

"_Don't call me that" I snapped at him "I am your prince."_

"_My prince" formal, proper, deference "I respectfully assure you that you never had a chance and it's nothing short of a marvel that you survived. Don't ever blame yourself for her death. Not for another instant" he winced "and now I know who really made mince meat out of Mannwan's arm."_

"_Any other questions?"_

"_You've heard of gorffwyll so you must have been healing even back when Mannwan was training you. What were you planning to do with the books?"_

_I was rather confused as to what that had to do with anything in Avalon but the thought of my deferred dream drew a sigh of my own and bled a little of the tension out of me "Before I was recalled"_

_Both ears flicked forward as blue and violet swirled in his enaid. He looked like a bloody hound on point but he didn't interrupt. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy choice of words!!_

"_I had planned on establishing a school to teach medicine to the dynol."_

_Long, long, silence as his jaw nearly sagged to the floor. He had looked less stunned when I told him Jennet was pregnant. _

"_Teach medicine" he muttered as if he couldn't even fit his mind around the concept. "Healing, a Penthalion healer."_

"_Why does everyone seem to find that so odd?"_

"_You're the closest thing to a Draig that walks the earth, closer even than the mardeths for all that they look like Draigs."_

"_And?"_

"_Draigs are __**predators**__ boy. And predators __**target**__ the weak and the sick. They don't heal them, they don't help them, and the damn sure don't nearly kill themselves rescuing them."_

_I laid my hand over his bloodied one "I do". I had planned on leaving the bite as a reminder but, well, hell. _

"_I know" there was a glint of tears in his eyes "I know you do. Thank you, no matter what, for everything."_

"_I'm still mad enough to force feed you your fingers." I reminded him._

"_I know, but will you let me help anyway?"_

"_Help with what?" _

"_With whatever it is you came back to do, whatever it is that has your llwgwa nearly frantic with panic and you worried as hell." Four days, I'd lost four bloody days. But then what would I have done? Jane was determined to be a martyr, Mary was determined to marry Philip, and Philip was determined to make Jane a martyr. If it wasn't for my bloody promises and my link to Jane I'd leave them all to their bloody stupidity and wish them joy of it. _

"_It isn't your concern." I snapped and then riposted with a question of my own "What is Risanca?"_

"_A dagger forged from the tooth of Nimrais the White."_

_From the look on his face and the swirl in his enaid I was supposed to intuitively know and dread whatever that meant. If there was one thing I'd learned while sailing around the world collecting medical knowledge it was sometimes, as annoying and stupid as it made you look, you just had to ask the obvious questions._

"_And?"_

"_If Risanca is active that means Nimrais is stirring."_

"_The Draigs are dead."_

"_But their ghosts remain and I can only think of one Ellyllon Nimrais could be coming for" his fingers twitched and he had to make himself not reach out and grab me._

_I snorted "Let him come."_

"_Gods less fortunate! My prince, this isn't some hedge fairy but the shade of the most powerful and cunning of all the Draigs!! Miscalculate just once, slip just a little, and he will devour you. Don't look at me that way. Yes, you work bloody miracles but this is NO time to get cocky. And it's too damn EARLY. You're too YOUNG for this" he frowned eyes narrowing ears flat back against his skull "What __**have**__ you been up to?"_

"_You put another dweud y gwir on me and Nimrais my witness you will beg for the mercy of the difabyd" I swore._

_He blanched and swallowed and while I could vouch that Neidr had no lack imagination (the infamous night of the shilling snatching rats (among so many others) had certainly proven that) I doubted the notion that I had swapped bodies with Jane leaving her a virgin in mind but not body and me the converse would ever occur to him. Particularly since he had never and likely would never meet Jane nor had I ever mentioned her in his presence. Anuion shifted on the bed his eyes imploring me to tell Neidr who certainly caught the by play. _

"_You concentrate on Avalon and I will settle my own affairs here. They are not your concern." _

_Anuion looked like he was sorely tempted to strangle me while Neidr seemed to deflate a little. He looked like six miles of bad road, drawn, worn, and wane. I was torn between wanting to help him and my still bubbling anger. I decided a little distance was by no means a bad thing, rolled to my feet, and flung myself back into one of the chairs. Neidr followed slowly almost shuffling. I flicked a glance to Anuion who shrugged. _

_Neidr gently closed the treatise "Using the gorchymyn on Eidion would have been far safer, for both of you, why didn't you?"_

_This time it was my ears that flicked back hard against my head. I'd refused to budge on Jane, I sighed and decided to yield on this point "The others would have perceived it as a weakness that I didn't accept the challenge as made and it's an abomination."_

_That hound on a scent look again, "So, as a healer you consider murder less objectionable than an infringement on the will of another?"_

"_I'm also a predator" I shrugged, killing generally didn't particularly bother me. "And it's far more than an 'infringement'." I shivered "Once you begin, where does it end? No power is ever safe but I can think of nothing more insidiously tempting than the ability to completely subjugate another's will to your own."_

"_The gorchymyn doesn't always have to applied in its full measure."_

"_The frog in the pot" I said. Neidr looked utterly confused. _

"_If you try to put a frog in a pot of boiling water it will perceive the danger and flee but if you put him in cool water and slowly heat it he'll be dead before he ever knows he's threatened." I liked things __**neat**__. I liked order and control. How long once I started using the gorchymyn before I became as addicted as one of those Asian opium users to forcing others to obey my every whim? No, not ever, I didn't dare start down that road because I didn't trust myself to use the ability wisely or well. I heartily wished I'd never heard of it. It frightened me, both the thought that I could do it and the thought that it could be used against me. I decided to change the subject "You have no issues with my companions?"_

_Neidr eyes flickered to Anuion "There is no __**law**__ forbidding association with Anuion though it is quite socially gauche, crass, and unrefined as to other acquaintances, it was dark and I was not in the best of shape, my eyes undoubtedly failed me. On a purely personal note one never wished ill on a certain wayward erstwhile member of my House but a word of warning. a certain individual whose hands were crushed is not to be trusted and should be considered quite dangerous."_

_Interesting that Lluniwer and Neidr had the same opinion of each other. A knock on the door pulled all our attentions away from the conversation. Ah, Jennet. Neidr's enaid had gone very gray when I was under the spell and only the slightest bits of blue and violet had crept back. I wasn't ready to try cheering him even though I ought to. _

"_Enter" I said ignoring Neidr's slight shake of the head. He needed her and I needed away from him for a little while. The mere sight of her brightened him a little and she took one look at him and shot Anuion and I the most reproachful of looks. I ordered Anuion out of the cabin with my eyes and followed him. From the sound of things Jennet was doing everything in her power to 'take care of her man'. Good. Just because I was furious with him didn't mean I didn't want him to recover. I leaned against the mast adding the last few days to the imprint of myself I'd left there. The echo of myself was comforting as was the melltith ringing on the evening wind, my lighthouse let out a steady gleam, strong and true, though next week, damn this week, would tell if it would actually work. My own voice swirled around me…_

"_So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,_

_May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn_

_To lead me through death, darkness, and storm._

_To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,_

_Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore."_

"_Please, my prince, confess this matter to Neidr and seek his council."_

_Before the __dweud y gwir I might have considered it, before I realized he was returning to Avalon._

"_By my own life, he means you no ill, not after what you did for him."_

"_Perhaps he doesn't, but can the same be said for whoever he reports to? And his own wishes will matter not at all to the Gorchymyn." I considered flying for a moment and then just as quickly discarded the notion. Neidr had proven that my strength had not yet returned. It abruptly occurred to me that Peregrine had been very, very, quiet._

_('Grine?) _

_(Don't ever DO that again!!)_

_(Do what?)_

_(Whatever it was you did!) my boat (Ship) was very upset. A fine misty fog wrapped around us – was my boat (s-sh-ship) crying? _

_I patted the rail with one hand and rubbed the rigging with the other, (I'm fine)._

_(N-n-ow, but, it was bad Rhys, and scary, and just DON'T do it again, please.)_

I skipped over the rest of his conversation with Peregrine.

_Peregrine and Sea had __**finally**__ run out of words when Neidr appeared on deck. He looked __**much**__ better, more relaxed, and a bit sleepy. _

"_New song?"_

_He shook his head "Translation of a very old one. The Puck isn't going to forget what you did. You made a nasty, cunning, and patient enemy, my prince. Be careful."_

"_Aren't I always?"_

_It came and went so quickly that it might have been my imagination but I thought I saw the first flicker of red since I rescued him. He didn't answer the question._

"_Slief and company showed up on the cliff about an hour ago. Should I accompany you as far as the Barrier?"_

_He shook his head some of the tension returning "I would prefer that you stay here." He frowned "Does this vessel not have a dory?"_

"_Yes, but there's no need" I raised us to the cliff edge so that all he had to do was step up onto the rail. Slief's eyes were big as saucers and this wasn't even one of my better tricks. _

"_By your leave, my prince"_

_I inclined my head silently and graciously but I didn't like watching him leave, not in the slightest. _

I glanced at the sky, we were running low on time, and skimmed down the page.

_Anuion recognized my mood and gave me a wide berth as I stormed through the walls of the Tower. Jane was absolutely steadfast about becoming a martyr and there would be no changing her mind, especially not before tomorrow afternoon. Anuion finally had me toying with the idea of telling Neidr but the point was moot since neither he nor any of the others had returned from Avalon yet. Jennet was beside herself and had implored me go after them but that could only exacerbate an already volatile situation. I wanted to hurt something. Preferably something big and nasty so I wouldn't feel badly about it later. Pity I'd already killed Eidion he would have done nicely. Perhaps father would send another mardeth after me I almost preferred the notion of a nearly impossible fight to this interminable waiting. Besides bloody mayhem was cathartic. _

_Bess was crying, hysterically. I hadn't seen Bratty Bess since my return and after what she had done to Milady Latimer I was still feeling anything but charitable to her. Even though I'd convinced Philip that killing her was a bad idea I wanted nothing to do with her. But she sounded tremendously, exceedingly, nearly out of her mind upset. I paused, maybe something big and nasty was attacking her and I could kill it._

_I was quite disappointed to find Bess alone, but confined to the very apartments which had housed her mother, Anne Boleyn, prior to her execution. Mary usually wasn't this petty or cruel and I wondered if she had ordered it or if someone else had picked this particular suite. It could have been Mary, though, power did strange things to people few of them good. Bess certainly had no desire to be a martyr! _

_On little more than a whim I wrapped myself in a Shadow of what I imagined I'd look like at Neidr's age and stepped softly into the room. I brushed her shoulder and she flinched away, long slender fingers covering her face. She looked better that way. Bess' hands were much prettier than her face._

"_Milady, I have heard thy lamentations and would know if there is aught I might do to help thee."_

_She blinked at my Shadow in stunned consternation._

"_Who are you?"_

_I made a point of pausing, after all elves are supposed to be quite chary of giving out their names "You may call me…Draco, I am Prince of the Elves."_

_She flung her arms around my legs so tightly she nearly overset me on top of her. "Save me! I don't, I don't" more helpless sobs. _

"_Sh, sh, milady. Come let us away from here" that gave her pause and she licked her lips thought beginning to counter panic. _

"_If I leave they will brand me traitor."_

"_Then I will leave one of my servants in your stead. My word I shall not allow them to cleave thy head from thy slender neck. Come we will return anon when thou art more at peace." _

_Anuion looked anything but happy with the prospect but he bore the 'humiliation' silently and with good grace. I sent him to quickly retrieve the set of stilts I kept in the Tower and offered her my arm. She clung like a barnacle on the way to the stable marveling how no one stopped us. Intrigued she was clearly calculating what the ability to move invisibly might be worth to her should she be able to secure my aid on an extended basis. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed engaging in a battle of wits with Bess. She was one of the few who had both the intelligence and the nerve to make it interesting. _

_I took a circuitous path to the townhouse scattering Shadow as we went so that she would neither perceive the house as it was nor be able to find her way back to it. _

_Her bright eyes were hungry. After years of Jane's disapproval, censor, and general nagging about all things magical Bess's naked desire was a relief. Not that I had any intentions of letting her catch me but it the notion of having a keen collaborator might make my vengeance against Philip that much sweeter was tempting. Jane had made me swear not to touch her mother or Mary but I had every intention of teaching Prince Philip a hard lesson provided I survived tomorrow and Bess had a vicious and devious mind when crossed. A worthy ally indeed. I had the servants bring refreshment as she silently took my measure. _

_She had just opened her mouth make her opening offer when Wind brought me news from the stables. I held up a hand and refilled her beer. She arched a brow probably suspecting that I was trying to get her drunk but took a token sip. Moments later Neidr (and surprisingly Slief) burst into the room without so much as a knock and then came to a dismayed halt when they realized they were abruptly without Shadow in the presence of an unknown dynol._

"_My Lords, welcome back. Your pardon, Princess, but you must excuse us. I have affairs of State to discuss with these Lords" I rang for the servants. "I will see thee in the morning, rest well." _

"_I will look forward to it, Prince."_

_Slief's eyes never left her. Well, that was interesting. Slief certainly hadn't been shy with the girls (granted shy went out the proverbial window when chocolate was involved) I'd brought in for my guests but neither had he ever seemed overly interested in them either once he was satisfied. _

"_Don't even think about it" I said letting a quiet adamantine menace flavor my voice. Slief nearly wet himself and fled. A flicker of red as Neidr watched him go before he took Bess's vacated seat._

"_May I ask?"_

"_Certainly, but I shan't answer. How did things go in Avalon?"_

"_Much as expected" Neidr was nearly grey again. That flicker of red had been quite a surprise considering how awful he looked. "Father was most apologetic. It nearly sounded sincere" he drew in a deep breath "If I didn't know better I would have believed he was truly sorry about what happened." He sounded surprised and a little choked as he continued "and he was worried about me. That's why we were so long away. He nearly had your father forbid my return."_

"_So things went well in Avalon?"_

"_The matter was much discussed and settled for now" not a lie and yet not true. Well, I couldn't exactly throw stones on that point. _

"_Jennet will be overjoyed to see you" that didn't get the swirl of violet it usually did._

"_She's a darling girl" he said softly, closing his eyes. I still hadn't quite forgiven him for the dweud y gwir but Jane's God, he looked like hell. No wonder his father hadn't wanted to let him out of his sight, neither did I. I rose and laid a hand on his shoulder loaning him strength from my own enaid and channeling joy into him. A brush of lips across my hand. I jerked it back as if stung. _

"_Stop that!" I hissed at him. _

_Better, not good, but better. A trace of a grin, a touch of rose. "Don't worry, you aren't a girl."_

"_Speaking of girls would you mind strengthening the wards on Bess's chamber?" _

"_Done. But may I ask what she's doing here? Particularly with us appearing as Ellyllon?"_

_Here was my chance. He leaned forward too sharp not to see me wavering. I pulled out the coffer which contained, among other things, my personal supply of extremely high quality chocolate from Topltizin instead. From another drawer I removed some white tea for later. I measured out the dosages very carefully, just enough to blur things not nearly enough to send anyone to seventh heaven or put them in a frenzy (especially since Bess was here!), carefully veiled and warded the coffer since I had no desire to have the lot of them knowing where it was. Neidr was going to be wounded that I had chosen NOT to trust him with whatever was bothering me, letting him know where the secret stash was was a pittance but I thought the gesture would be seen for what it was and taken with good grace. I gave Sleif and the other two's (apparently the number of spies had dwindled with Eidion's death) ration to one of the servants before taking the two remaining cups back to the desk. Neidr's ears flicked forward as I sipped my own before handing him his, letting the world blur about the edges as I sighed feeling months worth of tensions wash away on a golden flood. I'd forgotten how potent Topltizin's chocolate was. I watched him debate for a moment tempted to have his own go at me with the tables turned before temptation did him in. _

_Hmmm, it did him good, giving his enaid a nice violet wash. _

"_I thought the first was better than what followed" he said as his eyes lost some of their focus, the pupils rounding a bit. "You've been holding out on us."_

_I made an affirm-a-tive sound, and closed my eyes as I took a tiny second sip before setting the cup on the desk out of easy reach. There wasn't much left but it had hit me harder than I had thought it would. Not that I part-i-cu-lar-ly cared but I was much further gone than Neidr. Something found that a cause for concern so I took the final sip and it quieted right down. Very nice. Then Jennet came in and that was much nicer. Neidr gave her a brief embrace and a promise to be by later before seeing her out of the room. Shame I was enjoying looking, she had a very nice figure. _

"_That's my wife" he said mildly with a more substantial flash of red. More amused than angry then._

"_I'm too young to do anything but look."_

"_You're too young for that, too, Diflin." I called fire, cupping it in my bare hands and weaving it into a variety of shapes. He picked up the cup that had the measured but not yet brewed white tea and asked "What's this?"_

"_Chiacha, white tea."_

"_What does it do?"_

"_To us or to them?"  
_

"_To us" his tone implying I was an idiot for even asking for clar-i-f-cation. _

"_Sedative, quite strong. Someone mentioned I should never do serious magic while tired again."_

"_Busy day planned tomorrow?"_

"_To put it mildly."_

"_Need some help?"_

_I tried to think about it but it really wasn't im-por-tant. I shaped the flames into little butterflies and sent them fluttering around the room. _

"_Hey, no burning the house down with my wife in it." He chided. Oh like he had room to complain but I dutifully gathered them all back up._

"_So do you need some help?"_

"_Help with what?"_

"_Tomorrow."_

_I frowned "I don't want to think about tomorrow, tonight. If I'd wanted to think I wouldn't have had chocolate." He took another sip. Oh, that's why he was clearer headed he still had some left. No new wash of violet though. Pity. I closed my eyes again letting my head fall back against the chair and then opened them. My ceiling was very boring. We should do something about that. Except I wasn't very good with paint. _

"_You want to help?"_

_The yes was instant "Can you paint?"_

_Wary confusion "What's in your head boy?"_

"_Nymphs" I said dreamily "Really buxom ones with red hair, dancing on the ceiling."_

_Neidr eyed my empty cup "How much did you have?"_

"_Not nearly enough" I chirped and got up in-ten-ding to rec-ti-fy the sit-u-a-tion but Neidr caught me round the waist. _

"_**I**__, think that __**you**__ have had more than enough."_

_I dropped going right through his arms but he strengthened the wards before I got to the niche. "No fair" I complained._

"_You're cute when you pout."_

_I tossed my head "I am __**beyond**__ cute, I am __**perfection**__ incarnate."_

"_Now, __**that**__ is a proper Penthalion sentiment" he picked up the cup with the tea "How do you prepare this?" _

_I narrowed my eyes calling both water and fire. "Let it sit in nearly boiling water for a few minutes and then bottom's up."_

_He looked up at ceiling thoughtfully, "Red heads huh?"_

"_Yep" I frowned trying to remember what the servants had done with the left over paint from the ren-o-va-tions. _

"_We should do sketches first, plan it out."_

_I didn't want to plan anything right now but Neidr had parchment and charcoal. He was pretty good. Better than me at drawing anyway and if one of them looked a lot like Jennet well that was per-fect-ly under-stand-a-ble. He picked up the cup with his free hand "Drink up, you have a busy day tomorrow."_

_I obediently took a sip, and my eyelids doubled in weight almost before I swallowed. _

"_More than that" I could hear the charcoal moving quickly over the paper "growing boys need their rest." I dutifully took a bigger gulp. Neidr caught both me and the cup on the way to the ground. "Just a little more" he encouraged. Darkness._

_Too quiet. I lay in my bed estimating the time of day by the angle of the sun striking my feet. It was far too quiet, something was wrong. Ever so softly I made inquiries of Wind and Stone and went bolt upright when they replied that Bess and I were the only living things in the house. I flicked the covers aside and was at the door in an instant only to fall back hand tingling from the flash of the wards. Neidr had locked me in. Why? And where was everyone? It wasn't only the other Ellyllon that were gone but the girls, the servants, the cats, and all but two of the horses as well. I glared at the door wanting to stubbornly throw myself against the wards but Neidr was better at it than I was and the window wasn't warded. If speed was of the essence then flight was my best choice. _

_I landed in the courtyard and braced myself for wards on the door but it swung open in eerie silence. Death, I smelled death. A silent death. But death wasn't silent for me. The blood cried out, ghosts repeated their endless loops, it wasn't QUIET. I shivered unnerved and pressed onward. I found Sarff and Swydd first. Oh, damn him, damn him, damn him. Slief wasn't far away but I didn't pause, stone last remembered Neidr back in my office, where the God damn chocolate was. Enough chocolate to kill __**twenty**__ Ellyllon never mind four. He looked very peaceful sitting in that same chair from the first day. He'd even painted the damn dancing nymphs on the ceiling. It was a very nice job if a bit bawdy for polite company. I wanted to bring him back to life so I could kill him myself. I wanted to bring him back to life so I could ask him why. I mostly I just wanted him back. I took a step forward and sent a broken cup spinning across the floor. Make that five because I KNEW that dose had been meant for me. I brushed a stray locke of silver hair back. Still warm. So quiet and peaceful. Bullshit. I slammed the chair over backward dumping the body onto the floor and cursed the fool in every language I knew. When I ran out of real curse words I made some up. Bess started banging but I ignored her. The bastard had left a bloody note. I was tempted to burn it and the body. Damn it, damn it, damn it __**ALL**__. Just like Milady Latimer, I'd beaten all the odds, done the bloody impossible and still ended up with a corpse. I sat on the desk my feet swinging above the floor with the note crumpled in my hand as I fought to control my breathing. What was the bloody use? I was beginning to believe the Greeks were right, there was just no saving a man doomed by Fate. _

_I unfolded the damn note:_

_**Diflin, you are undoubtedly torn between grief, guilt, and rage. Do not grieve for me for it is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known. **_

_I was tempted to kick the body but my legs weren't long enough. What the HELL Neidr? He wasn't Jane. He hadn't wanted to be a martyr I was even reasonably certain he hadn't really wanted to die. Yes, the difabyd had hurt him but that didn't seem to fit his words. I frowned and continued reading._

_**I never wanted to be the asp for which I am named but I never dreamed I could be anything else. You proved me wrong in every way that mattered. You turned my whole bloody world on its head.**_

_My fingers tore the paper a little. Don't you DARE make this my fault Neidr or I will resurrect you just so I can slap some sense into you._

_**I truly wish I could see you do the same to Avalon. Sarff and Swydd had…orders concerning you. Slief and I decided that we weren't going to let them carry them out. Thank you, my Prince, for providing the perfect solution. Slief having watched their deaths followed them. I am certain his happier thus, or at the very least less unhappy for I do not think I have ever met a more miserable soul. Given my father's position and my recent incident I could have undoubtedly talked my way out of any blame for this sorry business. And I did consider it if for no other reason than I wanted to see you seated on the throne of Avalon but there are decades at best and likely centuries between this day and that and Slief is not the only coward. Do not grieve for me, for I am, for the first, time at peace. Do not feel guilty for it for this was not done with out careful reflection. You could not have stopped this not without making the situation worse. I will not tell you not to be angry for that is a waste of ink. **_

_**Slief thought it would be kinder if we took you with us. I measured out a cup for you but warded your door instead and broke it as soon as he took Sarff and Swydd their drinks. I am sorry that I have made you a new enemy. My father will blame you though if there is anyone at fault for this it is he. He will want your head on a plate and your balls in a bowl.**_

_Actually it was my fingers that ended up in the bowl. I'm fairly certain he has my original set of balls in a jar. It's a damn good thing Will I'm a good enough healer to grow a new set of both. Your father has less pleasant plans for my head. Mallory in the carchar wrote._

I shivered, I couldn't help it as I continued reading.

_Damn you Neidr_

Mallory was still angry and grieved.

_You bloody well __**knew**__ who pulled His strings. My sire may be a sick, sadistic, madman but __**yours**__ is the __**mind**__ behind the throne. He does nothing without your father's approval. And as much as I loath your father I can see in his enaid that he still grieves for you. You could have done a hell of a lot more good alive so why the hell did you do it? And why in bliss, bliss leaves no ysbryd, no blood, nothing for me to even try to use to gain more insight. Oh, Neidr you idiot did it never occur to you we could have had the same partnership our fathers' have against them? Or did it and did that love cut both ways? Could you not choose between us and so escaped the necessity the only way you knew how? I'm going to kill him Neidr, both of them. Somehow I'm going to destroy them both. I have to not just because it will give me immense personal pleasure but because Avalon needs to be free of them as much as I do. I suspect you always knew it would come down to your father's death or mine. Damn you, Neidr, damn you if there was ever the slightest hope for some sort of compromise you destroyed it with your death. But then maybe you meant to you little snake in the grass. _

You could hear the heavy sigh.

_I still miss you, you bloody fool. Draigs what a team we might have made._

He turned his focus from his present in the carchar back to his past.

_**Speaking of my father, he doesn't know about Jennet yet and he must never find her or my unborn son. I know after this I have no right to ask favors but keep them out of his hands, he will more than kill them. I have sent the household to the estate you gave Jennet with Taflu as escort but there are others still in Avalon who know both of her and it. Do not leave them there long, my prince, I beg you. And be careful, be very, very careful. There is so much I am **__**forbidden**__** to tell you. Trust nothing and no one. I was sent here to do more than merely spy on you but**_

_**I'm sorry, please forgive me, your friend, Neidr**_

_I buried my head in my hands as Bess's yells grew slightly more strident. I drew in a deep breath and looked back up at the benighted nymphs. As my anger grew flames crackled devouring the painting and licking at the walls. Ashes rained down as I shook with rage. I wanted to weep or rage but instead I stood silent as the house became an inferno around me. My fault. I'd handed them the means and the opportunity on a silver platter. And Neidr hadn't wanted to die, not really. __**Jane**__ wanted to die. I could clearly see the differences between them. I __**could**__ have stopped this if only I had been paying __**attention**__. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. Shrill shrieks and terrified neighs distracted me. _

_Damn, Bess! And someone was probably going to want the bodies for burial. I made certain the fire that would not touch them as it devoured everything else then slipped on the stilts and went for Bess. She was in a wild panic but I soothed her the same way I would a spooked horse. There really wasn't all that much difference between a panicked dynol and a horse when it came to the claearu. It was related to the gorchymyn, the way a summer breeze is to an arctic storm, but related. Speaking of horses I made certain the fire would not reach them and turned Wind so they could no longer smell it. Sanity returned to her eyes and I offered her my arm but she swept past._

"_We have to get out!"_

"_There is no need to rush" she flinched as I coiled fire around her "Fire is my servant and so long as you remain under my protection it will not harm you."_

_Fascinated she cupped naked flame in her palm "Draco indeed."_

_I shrugged having no desire to engage in witty repartee with Bess. Wisely sensing the mood she took my arm "Is there a reason why you are burning your house down? Or is it yours?"_

"_It's mine." She gasped as we rounded the corner and came upon Slief._

_She swallowed "Did you kill him?"_

"_He killed himself" I whispered back, closing my eyes. It was a stupid thing to confess to Bess and it would surely come back to haunt me later but God I needed to talk to someone and Jane would just tell me that they were all going to hell. Bess might think it but she at least wouldn't __**say**__ it in that superior tone of Jane's. _

"_He looks…very peaceful."_

"_Given his method of choice he should." I took us past him and toward the door._

"_How did" her voice trailed off. _

_I shouldn't tell her I really shouldn't but I did "I enjoy travel and in the course of my explorations of the Americas I discovered that the 'divine liquor' of the Aztecs has a profound pleasurable effect on my people. In moderation it makes us more merry than the finest wine does you, in excess it" my throat closed around the words. _

_Her voice was gentle, Bess was manipulative, cunning, and dangerous, but not actually heartless. She wanted me in her pocket and so her words of comfort were by no means completely altruistic but neither were they actually insincere. "Then it might have been merely a tragic accident." Bess was also Christian and to a fellow Christian that would be a balm because it would mean the soul was not necessarily in Hell._

_I swung round to face her angry at everything "__**they**__ knew __**EXACTLY**__ what they were doing." My voice cracked and warbled no matter how I tried to steady it._

_She pulled my head in against her, crooning. My first instinct was to pull away. Never let anyone touch you was a mantra I lived by and I didn't even like Bess. She was better than me at archery, she always palmed her embroidery off on me, and she was damn bloody annoying. She was also here, and alive, and familiar. I breathed in her scent with my forehead pillowed against her (somewhat bony) shoulder and remembered years worth tit-for-tat. Not everyone was either safe or dead. Bess and Jennet still needed me even if Neidr and, in a few brief hours, Jane were forever beyond my aid. Standing here with my townhouse going to ash around me wasn't getting anything done. The living needed no matter how much I wanted to curl up in a ball and forget the world for a while. _

_I stepped back "My apologies, milady, but perforce I will need the services of my servant for a few days and so must return thee to the Tower." A flash of fear in her eyes "I swear to you no one will part thy head from thy neck and death itself will not stop me."_

_I swiftly tacked up our mounts, gave Bess a boost onto hers, and keeping all signs of the inferno from the horses senses led the way through the ruined gates. And pulled up as Wind told me Lluniwer was skulking about. What the hell? I sent a Shadow of myself ahead with Bess and then whirled the horse._

_He blinked blearily at me and I could smell the absinthe at ten paces. I didn't bother dismounting, besides being nearly eye to eye with the towering Lluniwer was a novel experience. _

"_A toasht" (at least I thought that was what he slurred in El'lan, either that or he was muttering something about Lou's destiny in English) he had to blink a couple of times before he could continue "exshedingly well done" he staggered into the gelding who merely flicked one ear back. A bit over calm for my taste but then this gray wasn't one of my usual mounts. "Couldn't ha've planned it better meshelf." He blinked at the inferno "Would have kept the houshe though. Do you have any idea how mush that'sh going te cosht?"_

"_Planned what?" I didn't give a rat's ass about the money._

"_Offing that little shnake. Brrrilliant pieshe o' work" he nodded to himself head bobbing. "Be hell to pay later with the big sherpent but you can handle 'im." He giggled and took another drink out of a nearly empty flask. I wanted to fillet him. I wanted to rattle whatever it was he was rambling out of him but that never got you anywhere with a drunk. But I didn't have to let him STAY drunk. In the course learning to banish chocolate from my flesh I'd learned how to instantly remove most other intoxicants or poisons as well. There were a few pesky toxins that continued to resist my efforts but not many. Except today of all days I needed to husband my strength lest I end up joining Neidr and Jane in death._

"_He killed himself" God, Draigs, and all the little fishes in the Sea, but it HURT to say it. If only I hadn't been sleeping, if only I'd been paying attention, if only I had. If only. If only._

"_Courshe he did" Lluniwer said "By the time hish father wash done, and your father wash done, and you were done, what elshe could he do? Become Bledri? Bea-u-t-i-ful-ly done." He smiled like a child receiving the present he'd always wanted but never dreamed he was going to get "Poor little shnake" he lisped delightedly. "Bashtard, if it washn't for him I'd shtill be Udd, and your father wouldn't have shmashed my poor hands."_

_Both ears flicked forward and I decided that getting a sober explanation to __**that**__ was well worth what strength it would cost. Just as I was preparing to act I swayed in the saddle feeling the bite of the ax and a flicker of darkness._

"What the blazes was that?!" the Governor sputtered rubbing is neck wide eyed.

"That is a very good question" Jack said looking of all of us the least startled but then who knew how often his neck had been in a noose "particularly since we know he will be present at Jane's execution."

"We do?" the Governor was still rather rattled, actually, **I** was still pretty rattled. That had felt, very, very real and I had no doubt it was going to haunt my dreams.

"The whelp and I have seen it." He waved glittering hands at me "carry on."

_Guildford was dead which meant Jane's execution would be soon. I had no __**time**__ for this, I kicked the gray into a gallop easily overtaking Bess and my Shadow. I slipped smoothly back into place leading us on a different slightly less circuitous route back to the Tower. I could feel Bess panicking behind me._

"_My people can not speak false, nor can we break our word" both patented lies but SHE didn't know that "I swear to you, you will not be executed."_

"_And what do you want for your services?"_

"_All in good time" I returned "Or would you prefer your cousin's fate? That can surely be easily arranged."_

_She blanched "Anything you want excepting my immortal soul."_

"_I'm not a demon" I retorted "I neither want, have need of, nor have any means to collect, your soul."_

_Anuion took one look at me when we arrived and forced his way past Bess without so much as a by your leave._

"_What happened?" _

"_Neidr and the others are dead. Slief killed Sarff, Swydd, and himself. Neidr followed them" I told him in El'lan. His jaw just sagged. It was nice to know I wasn't the only one who had been caught completely unawares. But Lluniwer had definitely known something was afoot. Had that even BEEN Neidr's handwriting? They were Neidr's wards on my door. No question there, but Lluniwer was a damn good forger. I hadn't seen any indications of a lie but I'd never even thought to check and the paper was ash now. Later, I would pursue the matter later when I knew if I was even going to survive the day. Beside Neidr never would have trusted him. There was no reason to doubt that Neidr hadn't taken his own life but the fact that Lluniwer HAD __expected__ it meant that he knew something (likely a great many somethings) that I didn't that had made Neidr's choice the only avenue he believed open to him. Damn, why hadn't he TALKED to me? I could have thought of something. Doing the impossible was my stock and trade. "I know you can't cross the Barrier but you're the only one of us who officially even exists. Can you get word to the court?" _

_He frowned and nodded._

"_Take the gray gelding and go."_

_He started to turn and then froze staring at my waist in horror. Well, I wasn't as well turned out a usual but the outfit wasn't THAT bad._

"_Where is Caladwlch?"_

_Damn, sloppy of me, it was lying next to Neidr's corpse. "Back at the house."_

"_You __**need**__ it, my prince, you need it __**now**__." _

_I considered the sun. I could fly back for it and return in time but I didn't want to chance even a short flight. _

"_There isn't time."_

"_Where is it?"_

"_You won't be able to get to it through the flames."_

"_Flames? Never mind. Ward me against them. Where __**is it?!**__" My but someone was getting entirely too uppity but he seemed rather panicked so I warded him and sent him on his way. _

I swallowed and made very certain to skip the actual execution. If Guildford had felt like that then what must Jane have?

_Cold, cold and grey. I blinked hearing my voice singing in the distance, beckoned onward by the flicker of a multitude of candles. Something hissed to my right and a great red form reared its head blocking my path. A Draig, but not Nimrais, I didn't flinch as I realized I was in the presence of Angnar the Red and he looked distinctly hungry. Nice to see that my luck was in its usual fine form. On the bright side there wasn't anything worse than a Draig, right? I hoped that if there really was a deity out there it didn't take that as a challenge. _

"_Well met, Great One, may your servant pass?"_

_Bottomless black eyes regarded me, "Why?"_

_That did seem to be everyone's favorite word lately "Because I asked nicely?"_

_If nothing else I'd confused him. He puffed flame in my direction which I ignored and began moving forward. I knew, absolutely KNEW he was between me and returning to life. The great head reared back I knew from my round with the mardeth what THAT meant and scrambled toward him darting between his great forelegs. I dashed for the 'candles' and the 'song' only to be blocked by __**wards**__. Oh, hell, sloppy of me to forget, I was up against something better at magic than I and just as strong as a mardeth. I was dead, permanently dead, unless I could figure out some way to outsmart him or make a bargain with him. I rolled eluding the snapping maw for now. What would a big dead lizard want? _

_I dashed off again but the 'earth' in this strange gray place melded itself to serve my pursuer's every whim. He was bigger but I was more agile and I forced him to work at catching but finally the combination of earth and wards brought me to bay. _

_As he reared up I said far more casually than I felt "You don't want to be doing that."_

_He canted his head so he could stare down at me properly "And why do I not want to be doing this?"_

"_Because you created my bloodline for a reason and right now I'm the only heir you have. What happens if you kill me and my father dies childless?"_

_Long thought then, "you may pass" he rumbled stepping aside. _

_How long had I been playing tag with this thing, how long could my body be dead before nothing would raise it? _

"_My humble gratitude" I gave him an elaborate sweeping bow because it never hurt to be polite to creatures that could eat you in a single gulp and barely notice._

_I turned to find myself facing a set of huge white claws. Nimrais was a lot bigger than Angnar. He lowered his head so that one great eye (which was bigger than most of my body) was even with my own. The ground fell away before my feet so that his great jaw could fit. They were the same color Neidr's had been. Damn fool, why did you do it? Was it really that hopeless? I'd really, truly thought that he was going to make it. Not important right now. Get past the immense ghost of the very dead Draig then mourn for Neidr and Jane. Easier said than done. It hurt in a way no torture's blade ever had. They were dead, I hadn't found a way to stop either of them. My fault._

"_To what do I owe the singular honor of your regard, majestic one?"_

_A narrowing of the slit pupil that was my entire view of the world "A bit of conversation, there is so little here worth having and perhaps an accord" he purred in a tone so low it rattled my bones._

_I shifted. _

"_Do not worry, young one, you are of no use to me if your flesh is irrevocably dead. Regardless I will let you pass in time to salvage it."_

_So both Draigs had plans for me. While I was glad they planned on letting me live I wasn't exactly reassured. And Neidr had been terrified at the thought of me facing Nimrais. Damn him, damn me. I'd known he was fragile and I'd left him with Sleif. I was more than half-convinced the whole sorry affair had been Slief's idea. Poison was a coward's weapon, and Slief was a coward. I should have known better. Jane had gone gladly to martyrdom but there had been no joy in Neidr's note, just desperation._

"_Of what shall we speak, mighty one?"_

_The pupil widened a touch and for the first time I noticed that it wasn't bottomlessly dark, little lights twinkled, swirled, and flashed in its depths. "Of pain, of thieves, of __**vengeance**__."_

"_You want me to avenge you?"_

_The beast chuckled and I had to fight to stay on my feet as the ground shook and the winds whipped in response "No, little one" part of me wanted to protest that but it was lost in the darkness of his eye, so much seemed to get lost in that darkness, "something precious has been taken from __**you**__. Does not the Draig in your Blood roar in protest? Is your rage unkindled? Where is the fire in your bosom? Why do your enemies walk unchallenged?" With each question I could feel the Draig stirring, howling its protest, slipping the tattered remnants of the bindings I had wrought on my long voyage. "Don't you want your pint of blood and pound of flesh? He killed her, and for what? A throne he will not long hold? Why is that sac of pus still alive? Why is he still collecting art when he gave something of yours to the Inquisition for it? __**Spain**__ will walk as a lord on the Island of the Mighty," his eye kindled and his rage was a presence all its own pulling at me, swallowing me, drawing me further into the darkness, "__**Spain**__" he hissed with hate "does not belong here. It is not to be bourn. __**Spain**__ has stretched out its hand to take what is not and must never be its. It must withdraw a stump. Spain must be hamstrung for its presumption. Destroy him, destroy his power, destroy everything he loves. Don't __**you**__ want that, young one?"_

_I did, by the Draigs I __**did.**__ The Draig within roared an answer back. "It hurts, doesn't it? That you failed them, that they died in spite of all you could do?" The lights in his eye danced, flickering, streaming, mesmerizing. Something in me wanted to back away but I stayed where I was. "Do you know why you failed, little one? Because you followed the wrong rules."_

_Of course I had, I'd always known that, always known that the only way good could triumph was by using evil's methods. "Give up the pain, brave child, give up your hesitation for neither will help you take our vengeance and take what I offer instead." It spun in front of me, a dagger of purest, hungry white "Take it, and I will give you the knowledge and the freedom to wreck wanton havoc upon your enemies."_

_I hesitated, trying to think but there was only the lights in the eye "At what price?" I whispered forcing the words through my lips wrenching my hand back down to my side._

_The Draig almost seemed pleased at this small act of defiance, "Nothing you will ever miss if you take the blade" he promised "why cling to pain? Let me have your grief for it will only hinder you, and I will give you the exaltation of blood well spilled. Give me your regret and I will teach you to rejoice in victory. Let me have your misery and I will give you the peace of the shameless." The Draig within WANTED the blade as I had never wanted anything in my life. I watched my fingers caress the keen white metal as if in a dream, cool numbness flowing down from my fingertips coiling its way inward but I did not flinch, nay I welcomed it. Cold fire cauterizing all before it. As I curled my hand around the hilt something in my mind shifted, writhed, withered, died, something in my chest fluttered like a tiny bird and went still. I took a long deep breath, finally, gloriously, free of the fetters of humanity. The Draig lifted his great head so that the passage back was clear and gave me a nudge forward._

_Fool!! Young, cocky, impetuous, intemperate, bloody fool. Mallory in the carchar cursed himself. Somewhere there is a village I have deprived of its idiot Will. How could I have been so STUPID??! If there was one moment of my entire life I could recall and make a different choice that was it. I never __**ever**__ should have touched that damn dagger. Idiot, I was dealing with DRAIGS I should have known to take nothing at face value. God, moron, imbecile, what was I __**thinking**__? I wasn't thinking, not really, I was reeling in the wake of Neidr and Jane's deaths and it's damn hard to think at all when you're staring into a Draig's eye._

The letters were shaky, trembling, Mallory, had been trembling as he wrote and now that I had drawn away a little I could taste bile at the back of my throat. He had wanted to wretch but trapped for decades without food his stomach had refused. He didn't want to keep writing, and the desire to **not** remember what came next almost pushed the eye away from the page.

_I must never, ever forget what I am capable of becoming Will. And I must never allow myself to sink so low again._

_My fingers crunched as they curled around Risanca's hilt and my neck crackled as I raised my head from its pillow of bloody snow. Nearly midnight. My flesh had been dead long enough to freeze and returning it to some semblance of life was no simple task. I ignored the replaying exicutions and turned my attention to the two figures at the edge of the courtyard. They burned blindingly bright in my vision and the wind sang around them in my own voice._

"_So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,_

_May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn_

_To lead me through death, darkness, and storm._

_To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,_

_Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore."_

_I snarled and Nimrais growled (Kill them, kill them both, kill them __**all**_

"_He isn't coming back, is he?" Henry said brokenly._

"_It isn't too late, not yet, he is perilously strong" Anuion answered his hand tightening on the hilt of the sword at his side._

_Nimrais' anger flared upon seeing the blade and I wondered why as I approached wrapped in Shadow through the softly falling snow. When I was close enough I ringed us in flame._

"_Rhys!!" Henry sounded elated and started forward but Anuion caught his arm._

"_Not Rhys, not any more" tears in his eyes, tears in his voice. Soft fool. _

_I saluted with the blade and moved in on Henry. Anuion's oath would keep him from attacking and he was too useful a tool to discard. He gave ground but the flames blocked his retreat and he spread empty hands "Rhys what are you doing?"_

_I swung the dagger in an arc that would have cleaved his head from his shoulders in one swift, perfect, exquisite blow if it hadn't been caught by another blade. Anuion had betrayed me. __Caladwlch and Risanca both screeched in protest as they made contact and Angnar howled in my ears raging for blood. My eyes narrowed and I circled left._

"_Oathbreaker" I hissed at him._

"_My oath was to a living Ellyllon not a dead Draig" he snapped back "my prince bade me grant him the protection I would have given him. You will not harm a hair of his head so long as I draw breath."_

"_I __**AM**__ your prince" how DARE he defy me, this pathetic creature that had never even been willing to meet my eyes before._

"_My prince is better than this" he riposted "Nimrais is __**using**__ you. Cast him off and come back to us" he begged but the blade between Henry and I never wavered. He wasn't a bad swordsman but he lacked my speed and training and it wasn't long before I had him bleeding on his knees. Only to have great golden paws take me to the ground. A dozen of my fail bones snapped under the lion's onslaught. Looks Afar the young male Sharp Wits had bade me either slay or free. I had done neither but clearly Anuion had taken a page from my own book and courted an ally. I squirmed but the lion unsheathed his claws into my back in warning as his teeth settled almost tenderly around my neck. There hadn't been so much as a whisper from Wind or Earth of the fact that he was waiting for the opportune moment. I had been thoroughly betrayed._

"_He's perfectly willing to destroy you" Anuion said desolately "and even you aren't that fast. Please don't make him. Please don't try anything." I forced myself to go limp in the lion's grip biding my time waiting patiently for my own opportune moment._

_He struggled to his feet the slash I'd put in his thigh making it difficult as the leg didn't want to bear his weight. He leaned heavily on the lion's shoulder and kicked my hand until the fingers finally flinched enough for him to send Risanca rolling away. The snow kept it from going far and I marked where it came to rest before flicking my attention back to Henry as that sniveling little song kept swirling around with the snow. It wouldn't be nearly as loud after I gutted him and Risanca drank his life's blood. Anuion would be fine tool once I broke him to my will but I had no use for Henry and the light was a distraction. I licked my lips in anticipation of the kill. Anuion forced Caladwlch's hilt into my hand and I choked on a scream as agony crackled up from finger tips to ear tips._

"_No" he whispered. I couldn't see him with the lion blocking my view but I suspected he'd just buried his face in its mane. He'd badly underestimated me and now he was going to pay for the error. I stopped Looks Afar's heart and surged up from under the body._

_(Kill them) the Draigs hissed one after the other but I paused. I would need Anuion for what I planned and he would not be easily replaced. _

_(No) I retorted and I smirked at the surprise that rippled through both Draigs. The flesh might be merely human and I might be fresh out of the shell but I was the green Draig and I would not be so easily taken. I had not doubt Nimrais and Angnar had plans for me, fair enough I had plans for them as well._

"_One way or the other I will use you." I told him as he eyes flickered between my burned hand and the dead 'kitty'. I picked up Caladwlch ignoring the pain as best I could and forced the flagstones and Earth below to swallow the sword sealing it away with wards. "If necessary I will bind you to my will. If you continue your ill planned rebellion, I will kill you and render you into a 'Cauldron Born'." He went gray in body and enaid at that "But I would rather not. I propose a compromise. Serve willingly and I will let that piece of meat and its get" I waved my blistered hand at Henry "walk free."_

_(No!) Angnar spat (kill them and their kith and kin or you will never have peace. Your ill wrought melltith will haunt you for the rest of your life). Granted it was annoying but I was becoming progressively better at ignoring the silly little ditty. _

_(I will surely slay those for whom I have no use) I replied, disgusted that I had bound the damn thing to most of my available Old Blood servants. They were irreplaceable, as was Anuion, I couldn't slaughter them willy-nilly. But I could kill Neidr's bitch once she was delivered of the child. The brat would likely have talent but the girl would be useless once she delivered. A fitting revenge for his base abandonment. His woman would not survive a single hour past the birth of her son and the child I would mold according to my whims._

_Henry was just staring at me in horror. I bared my teeth in reply._

_Anuion nodded once sharply "I so swear."_

"_Get that thing out of my sight. I don't care what you do with it so long as it never comes near me again."_

_I turned my back on Henry and considered the lion._

"_Anuion" Henry protested "We have to help him."_

"_He's gone. As dead as the girl. That thing isn't your friend. It'll never be anyone's friend ever again."_

"_No, no, you're wrong. He's alive, he's breathing, while there's life there's hope."_

"_Stop!" slight scuffling. Looks Afar had attacked me a simple death was far too merciful. I needed something more appropriate._

"_Damn you, listen to me." Anuion could gorchymyn, interesting "Listen. He's dead. I'm sorry, more sorry than words can ever say but it's true. Whatever he tried must not have worked. They took him and no one has ever come back, not once they have you. I hoped he would be different. He's always beaten the odds before but, but, I guess a pair of Draigs was too much even for him. Mourn him. Move on with your life. Go home to your wife and children and __**do not under any circumstances seek to make any sort of contact with him**__. Now, go, just go, and ride for your life."_

_Ah, perfect. I wove bars out of Earth before I restarted the lion's heart and began my curse. "You wanted freedom but you will never have it. You will live in captivity for ten times a hundred years. Age shall not touch you, steal will not harm you, nor shall fire burn you until a thousand years have passed." I left him vulnerable to water just in case I needed to destroy him at some point and turned my attention to Anuion._

"_Anuion"_

"_What is your will, Ofnner?"_

_Ofnner, Dreaded One. I liked it. "Give it back to me."_

_Terror, sheer terror at the thought of touching Risanca. "Is your word worthless?" I challenged. He snatched up the blade and swayed with relief when I took it from him._

_I ran a fingertip over the slash in his leg closing the wound. _

"_That's not possible" he whispered staring at the healed flesh "not anymore."_

_I shrugged "I want you in the best condition so you can properly appreciate your punishment. You attacked me, you defied me, that isn't ever, __**ever**__ going to happen again." I grinned at him as the bars wound up into a quite pretty little cage and when they were done and he couldn't move I started the fire rubbing at the blisters that Calawlch had left on my own hand. "Sing for me" I commanded and he began to scream as the flames licked higher. Healing and Flame in perfect balance, anguish unabated, merciless, perfect. Neither pulled much power so I could keep it up for several hours._

_(Longer) Nimrais slithered around me bringing heady cold with him (much longer, let me show you). And he did. He taught me how to pull power from other living things, how to drain away their lives to power my own workings, which had been the true secret of the Draigs massive strength. Oh, they had been powerful in and of themselves but that had cinched their preeminence. We would see if Anuion's sanity could survive a few days. Angnar didn't think so but I did. _

_I flew to the uppermost reaches of the Tower. Wind and Earth also needed to be taught lessons but a light that __**pulled**__ at me kept distracting me. Peregrine. Destroy him and the whole rest of the melltith was useless. And so was he. What did I need with a little pleasure yacht full of medical treatises? _

_(Crush him) I barked at Sea._

_(No, I will not)._

_(I COMMAND it)_

_(You can not. I did not and have not ever been subject to anyone including the Draigs.)_

_(Bitch) I hissed._

_(I loved you) She said softly (as much as I was able. But you are not who you were. I will not let you have him.) She turned away._

_Fine, so be it. I flew down to the Water Gate. And pulled from the sleeping dynol in the slums feeling a score of lives flicker out as I built a new ship with a heart as black as his boards and sails the color of shed blood. Peregrine had taken me weeks this much larger ship took but a single night woven for death and from death._

_(Find him) I commanded the Revenge (Ram him, destroy him, and send him forever to the depths)._

_His laugh in reply sounded more like screams as he wheeled out slipped away on the tide hunting his brother, a ferocious Cain to Peregrine's innocent Able. As it should be. Dawn was just breaking and the little scallywag sparrow came looking for seed. I laid a bit on my palm to lure him in and when he landed I caught his tiny feet in an iron grip._

_He chirped once in surprise before the ice that now dwelt where fire had once burned within me froze him solid. I smirked thinking back to that day when the strange being my grandsire had sent had declared me worthy to live because I had spared another sparrow. I turned looking to the south west, considering the best methods and means to bring Spain and the Hapsburgs to heel as I snacked on the somewhat crunchy frozen bird. Revenge, after all, is a dish best served cold._

**Littlebird: **Thanks for the read and review! If you like objects with opinions just wait until you get to meet Mallory's boots. They're quite a pair (pun completely intended) when we get toward the end of the journal. On binding the servants, as far as Mallory's concerned they're already his, nor is he actually actively subverting their wills which is what he objects to. They can still say no to him if he asks for something and in the long run they get more out of him than he does them. Also you'll note that he couples a pretty potent blessing with the spell. These are largely farmers and grooms at the time he sets the spell in motion. 'May your horses never weary' and 'may every seed you plant grow straight and tall and true' are pretty powerful pluses to a farmer or a groom which in his mind more than offsets the fact that they will serve as anchors to a spell that ideally they will never even know existed.

As far as the island it's the last bit in the journal, chapter tentatively titled 'A Night Without End'. Yes, Norrington has put two and two together based on naval reports and things that Mallory said when he rescued Norrington and Jack just before Elizabeth claimed the journal.

**Cheorl d'Arion:** Thanks for the read and review! At the moment one more chapter in the 1500's (tentatively titled Draco) is planned, one dealing with the tail end of his time in the carchar (tentatively Lost in the Dark), some young Will, Jack, Norrington (well younger) & possibly Anna-Maria (tentatively titled Back in Light), and finishing up the journal with 'A Night Without End'. So not much left of the 1500's since I'm also quite ready to leave them behind but I have a few more important bits to plow through and then we some time with the current cast in a slightly younger incarnations before we shift the story back to the present.

**Devil Red: **Thanks for the read and review! He told Will back in Opportune Moment II at the very end after he puts Jack to sleep. So history books you would enjoy….you might like Michael Farquhar's books. They aren't exactly deep but they are **fun**. (A Treasury of Royal Scandals, A Treasury of Great American Scandals, and A Treasury of Deception.) On a more serious vein Alison Weir is fairly prolific and usually fairly good (I do **NOT** suggest her Murder of Lord Darnley though, the scholarship is fine she just wrote it drier than a salt lick.). As far as new authors on the block I enjoyed Leonie Frieda's Catherine de Medici as a very nice first effort and am hoping to see more by her. Derek Wilson has several readable works out but is a bit drier than both Weir & Frieda. These are all more biographical then straight up history though. Carolly Erickson is another accessible and prolific author. If you're looking for more serious scholarship there's always Diarmaid MacCulloch or Mack Holt but they're a bit much to wade through. Do you have a particular location or time frame in mind?

34


	31. Draco

**Author's Notes:** There was a giant squid lurking in Q Me?, this tales sister story, long before CotBP came out and a need to save Jack from said beastie (odd coincidence that) which was in the control of a captain wronged and cursed by Mallory. AWE presented me with several problems (particularly since hard on the heels of DMC I had alluded to Jones by name in this story) so I altered my original plans a bit to accommodate an utterly different origin for Davy from AWE with a complete removal of Calypso (who isn't a bit like my Sea. And it would have taken God to stop Mallory from making mince meat of the Brethren Court if they had really confined Sea in mortal flesh in his absence). This of course gives Davy a somewhat different spin since he is a blend of the character I already had in mind back in early 2004 and the one from the movie.

As always a hearty thank you to my reviewers I have replied to those who left unsigned reviews at the bottom. To those I mentioned that flashbackville would soon be over my apologies, I decided to move several scenes from this chapter to the next so the first half of Lost in the Dark will take place between 1572 – 1576.

I swipe a few lyrics from another Charlie Zahm song for the scene with Davy Jones.

**Chapter 17: Draco**

I set the journal aside and put my face in my hands just breathing for a few seconds. That wasn't Mallory, wasn't Rhys, I felt soiled and unclean just coming into contact with it. With the monstrosity that was Draco. I didn't want to touch the journal again but I had to. I had to know how he'd come back because if the Mallory who had trained me could rise from the ashes of what he was in 1554 then there was hope. I glanced at the circle of drawn faces around me, even Elizabeth seemed subdued and Jack looked as stricken as I'd ever seen him. Dark, kohl rimmed eyes met mine "Always wanted to know what his secrets were, I can hardly complain if they're darker than I ever dreamed, carry on Whelp time waits for no man." I braced myself and reopened the journal.

_Bess was key, the country known as England was the heartland of my realm, proper that it should play a role but the Low Countries, ah, the Low Countries, the seeds of rebellion already slumbered in the rich dark soil. Even when I had been a sniveling, mewing, human I had known that and now that I was free of Henry's_

"_**Alas our time may be over and my heart cries that this is wrong,**_

_**There is a darkness in the valley, an all encompassing fog ,**_

_**But no matter how far I wander, though the path be lonely and long,**_

_**My thoughts will never leave you and I will cleave to thee with this song.**_

_**So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,**_

_**May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn**_

_**To lead me through death, darkness, and storm.**_

_**To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,**_

_**Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore."**_

_I ground my teeth as that damn song and the spell that went with it tugged incessantly at me._

_(I told you, you should have killed them all) Nimrais hissed smugly (it isn't too late. Just let the fire have him) _

_Anuion's screams formed a lovely counterpoint to that drivel my former self had composed. What rubbish! It was embarrassing, and far beneath the level of an exquisite being like myself. I ignored both the white and the red draigs so as to impress upon them who was master here and swept past the Ellyllon bonfire that had once been and might, if I was feeling benevolent, someday again be Anuion. The ysbryd as I rounded the corner was like a kick to the head, by a draft horse, Jane. The song branded itself into my brain and I sank to my knees. What was I doing? I reached out to extinguish Anuion, to recall that monstrosity I had built, to fly to Peregrine's defense, but Nimrais' voice whispered in my ear_

_(Do you truly want it back?)_

_Grief like a river, guilt like the sea, anguish encircling the horizon circumscribing the world, despair as vast as the sky._

_(It will never end. They will die around you, each and every one, no matter what you do, wouldn't it be so much easier to live without such petty mortal concerns?)_

_I didn't just let him have them I thrust it all away and suddenly the song had no pull at all. I walked contemptuously directly through what remained of Jane and swept onward toward Bess's cell. I paused at the Beauchamp Tower, Bess alone would be insufficient, her fragile female nerves would shatter like glass under the strain without support and as annoying as I found him Eyes was the right 'man' for the job. He was an ornament, competent enough at ordering the servants about, he even had a certain flair for crafting entertaining little set pieces, but he would never develop any real military talent. Oh, he was quite good in the tiltyard or in a formal bout, troth he was one of the best in the court, but he didn't have what it took for true fighting. Pity too that he had never bothered to give his pathetic little brother Guildford any lessons on the proper way to please a lady since the wind had bourn me no complaints on that score about him. I slipped silently through the stone and into the cell he shared with one less brother than he had this morning. _

_How bloody annoying. Four grown men should not sleep like a pile of puppies. The remaining Dudley brothers had pulled their bedding onto the floor (since none of the beds could have held all of them) and clearly cried themselves to sleep in a Gordian knot of sibling affection. One of them had begun a carving into the stone wall, John the eldest, the stone informed me. He had etched each of his brothers' badges, roses for Ambrose, gilly-flowers for the executed Guildford, oak leaves for Eyes, honeysuckle for Henry but had carved nothing for himself. An interesting statement and in keeping with the Dudleys in general which rather gave me an idea. I doubted I would need a leash for Eyes, he simply wasn't good enough to threaten me, but it never hurt to be cautious. _

_A few notes turned natural sleep into enchanted slumber. I carelessly yanked Eyes free of the rest. John's head thunked rather loudly against the flagstones as he lost his human pillow and Ambrose stuck an elbow into a normally rather tender portion of Henry's anatomy as the entire pile of flesh shifted. Both sore spots would undoubtedly engender confusion when they woke, if I let them wake. I roused Eyes up out of the depths of dreams and into the face of my Shadow of Draco with some tastefully decorative little dragons of fire and ice perched on either shoulder._

_He yelped and scuttled back against the wall with his night shirt twisting and hitching up round his hips. So much for maintaining an aristocratic bearing at all times. Breeding will tell and for all their delusions of grandeur the Dudleys didn't have any true nobility. _

_Angnar licked his lips, hungry, but I ignored him as Nimrais watched quietly, waiting, weighing._

"_Do you wish your brothers to live?" I asked softly, conversationally._

"_John! Ambrose! Henry! Guards!" the large expressive eyes that Bess was so fond of were rounded in panic. I breathed in the scent, heady and delightful and I hadn't even DONE anything yet. He began to pray _

"_Do you really think your god is going to save you?" I crafted a Shadow he could see over Jane's ysbryd. "Do you think you are more pious than she was? Better than she was?" Foolish girl, I reflected, feeling nothing except rage at Spain. "If God couldn't be bothered to protect __**her**__, why on Earth would he aid __**you**__?" _

"_Get thee behind me. Satan" he voice was a trembling wreck. _

_I gave a dark chuckle "Silly fool, do you really think that Satan himself even knows a worm like you exists? And a man in your position can hardly afford to insult potential allies."_

_He made an attempt to gather up the scraps of his courage "Why would a demon be insulted by being called by his master's name?"_

"_A demon might be quite flattered but I am the Prince of the Elves and I find it profoundly insulting to be likened to a demon." He swallowed and glanced at his brothers undoubtedly wishing now that he hadn't scoffed at Barnaby's love of 'fairy tales'._

"_They are in an enchanted sleep then?"_

_Since Ambrose wasn't sporting any injuries yet I gave him a swift, rib breaking kick. He stirred not at all. "You remember what happened to William Foxley?"_

_He swallowed and nodded. I remembered how mortified the silly child I had been had been but even missteps could be twisted to my advantage._

"_They will remain asleep until I am in a mood to wake them, so unless you would like your REMAINING brothers to sleep for the rest of their natural lives it would behoove you to please me."_

"_And what would please you?"_

"_The situation with Spain…vexes me, exceedingly. Spain has overreached himself and must be punished, severely. I will need Bess' collusion for some of my retribution. She will need a staunch supporter. She has always been... infatuated with you. Your father groomed you be the man that gave Ned a nudge in proper direction, there is no reason why you couldn't be that for his sisters. I think you will find an alliance with the Prince of Avalon invaluable given your current appointment with the headsman. And I make" I stopped all three of the sleeping brothers breath letting the remaining air rattle out of their throats "a deadly enemy."_

"_Stop it" he begged "I am yours so long as you do not harm them."_

_He sagged with relief as they began breathing again. "Dress" I ordered him "I doubt you'll impress Elizabeth in your current sorry state."_

_I swaggered out to the battlements to wait for him. (Kill him) Angnar snarled (kill them all and be done with it)_

_Nimrais hissed a chuckle (You aren't the foolish thug he is, are you my young protégé? No, you understand the importance of anticipation, timing, irony. You realize some things are best savored. Fear sweetens the blood, despair tenderizes the meat.)_

_(What do you want?) I asked the White Draig, knowing flattery when I heard it._

_(To assist you in destroying an invader) he retorted far too innocently._

_(And then?)_

_(And then we will see if you are worthy)_

_(And how is that to be determined?)_

_(In Blood, how else? I will teach you how to destroy your enemy and then you will use that knowledge to destroy mine.)_

_(Who?) I asked more from curiosity than aught else, I had no intention of getting caught in Nimrais' web unless it benefited me._

_(The Lord of Aratta) hate and rage coiled through him (Sneaky little fiend, he destroyed us, he destroyed us all and then) anger rendered him incapable of further speech. Interesting. I knew next to nothing of the Lord of Aratta but I was willing to bet that my mysterious visitor who had judged my life on the weight of a sparrow knew a great deal. _

_Further consideration of the matter was cut short by Eyes' appearance looking quite dapper. He did know how to dress even without his servants (a rare breed indeed in the courts)._

_Bess was unsurprisingly still awake. There had been no great love between her and her cousin Jane since the ambitious and competitive Bess had always seen her as a rival but she also lived in terror of the headsman's blade. Jane's death would undoubtedly give Bess nightmares of her own for years to come. _

_(Good) Nimrais purred (There are few weapons of manipulation to rival terror)_

_(Why bother? It obeys or it is dead) Angnar wanted her. I skimmed my fingers over the hilt of the blade tempted to yield to his blood lust by I reined in my instincts. I couldn't be tied to England if I was going to bring the Hapsburgs to their knees. I needed to be able to go anywhere at a moment's notice KNOWING that the ruler left on the throne was as devoted to destroying the Hapsburg hegemony as I was but with the wit and the will to both keep England out of a direct confrontation, which, at __**this**__ hour, she could not win, the day would come, when I had bled Spain dry but not now, and to chip relentlessly at the ties that bound both family and realm together._

_(We will hunt after I am finished here) I imperiously informed the Red Draig._

_(Then Gorchymyn her into obedience and have done with it.)_

_(Fool) Nimrais hissed (The Gorchymyn is a powerful weapon but it should be wielded with a light touch, only witless worm like you would ever rely upon it. This one is barely out of the shell and already shows more understanding than you will ever have.)_

_I left them to their fight pleased to see that I would never have to face them together for they appeared incapable of even brief alliance. I did keep one ear on the conflict though, there were few things more important than knowing one's enemies and I had absolutely no illusions that either of them meant me well. I smirked, we would see who was used in the end._

"_Good evening, Princess" I did NOT bow. I had bent both head and knee entirely too often to these human fools and I would do so again to get what I wanted but not tonight, not to her. _

_The chill I now radiated swept through the chamber sending a skim of ice across the glass of wine in her hand and causing her to shiver violently. I would have to discover a way to control that. I couldn't very well have my presence betrayed by causing a frost in June now could I? I should be glad it was February, that gave me a few months to have it under my usual exquisitely precise control, before people no longer had drafts from the outside to blame it on. But again, not tonight. I was deadly, treacherous, dangerous, and fixated, I wanted there to be no question that underestimating or refusing me would be a perilous choice, indeed. I glided into the room more smoothly than any mere mortal could have, claimed the best chair, steepled my fingers, and rested my chin on them._

"_How dare you sit in my presence without so much as a by your leave?" she snapped only noticing the frosted wine when it failed to slosh as she slammed it down. _

_I let a shark's smile ripple across my face "Because I don't require your permission, little girl, for anything. The boy I was yesterday, being foolishly slightly taken with the notions kindness, honor, and chivalry, promised you aid, the man I have become is willing to honor that provided you are willing to be wise."_

_I looked her in the eye letting her see just how utterly different I was now. Bess was many things but never a fool. A flash of fear as the realization that she was dealing with someone completely different than she had been yesterday. Yesterday she had seen the Prince of the Elves as a resource to be cleverly manipulated and who would be easily used. Yesterday I would have let her finding it annoying at worst and likely a necessity for my conscience. Today, today I no longer had nor wished for such petty human weaknesses. _

"_And what would your grace consider wise?"_

"_An alliance. I will ensure that you are not executed until your sister succumbs to the disease festering in her womb, in exchange you will vow to never make peace with the Hapsburgs or anyone allied with them. I think that is rather less than the 'anything but your soul' you promised earlier." I had the Wind fling the shutters open as I sashayed across the room. "I know quite well that you didn't mean a single word of that promise, and that you will betray me the instant it is convenient."_

_I swept the Shadow on Anuion away giving her a ring side seat to the full horror of a living Ellyllon inferno. The pain laced wails were music to my ears. I snaked a hand around hers burning flesh slowly to ash. She writhed trying wrench her hand away but my grip was like a vice as I kept Eyes from seeing or hearing us. When I'd seared the nerves I let it go. She stared at it in horror, mouth working but no sound emerging. Bess had always been very vain about her lovely hands. _

"_If you, ever, even, __**dream**__ about betraying me, execution will be the least of you worries" I promised as I healed her hand "I will make you BEG for death." I extinguished Anuion with a thought and wrote a command to join us in flame. As Anuion slowly straightened from his curl in the courtyard I turned to Bess "If you obey me, before five years pass, your sister will have died of natural causes and you will be Queen of England. I will bless your nation and your reign so long as you honor our alliance and I will do all that is in my considerable power to ensure that you are not assassinated. Do we have an accord?"_

_Braver than I would ever have given her credit for being she took my outstretched hand in the one I had just used to make my point. _

"_Anuion, you will provide Princess Elizabeth and Sir Robert Dudley with any and all reasonable assistance." _

_Angnar had been whispering promises in my ear through the entire exchange and I was eager to see what he had in mind. Time enough later to finish breaking the lot of them if they proved to be a pack of fools. _

"_Your brothers will wake upon you return" I informed Eyes as I took flight out the open window and into the winter night._

_I started to land in a part of town I normally wouldn't have been caught dead in but there was nowhere that I could safely set my feet. Killing the vermin that lived down in this rat infested maze would be a public service. Both Draigs coiled themselves around me eager for blood. Using the trick I'd learned from Nimrais earlier I drew power from their sad little lives to avoid getting their excrement on my boots which were undoubtedly worth more than the entire populous of this nasty little warren o f 'human' leftovers. _

_I let Angnar pick our first victim. A 'lady' of the night, certainly no lady and not a day past thirteen, if that. I was a bit disappointed since I had been hoping for larger, more dangerous game. A girl like this little blond was quite literally child's play for a killer of my skill. It was insulting. _

_(You have killed often in the past) Nimrais purred (but knowing the terror of the hunted you have never permitted yourself the joy of the hunt. It is long past time. Spook her, let her run, catch her, let her go to run again, nearly catch her, let her think she's gotten away and only when she thinks she is safe, crush all her hopes and savor a slow kill)._

I swallowed hard wanting a bath more than I had ever wanted one before in my life. I felt fouled just reading this.

"I can't read any more of this Jack."

I could see lines of tension around Jack's eyes, "Skip ahead Whelp, if there's aught that needs exploring we can drop anchor at an opportune moment."

Feeling like I'd just been rescued from the gallows I started looking for the moment we got the real Mallory back. I stopped when I heard the tune to Lighthouse on the Shore again...

_I nearly shoved the boy's head back under as the spell that had been all but quiescent for over fifteen years whispered through my mind. With a snarl I dumped the young Prince of Navarre into the bottom of my skiff. __**Stupid**__ pup to swim so far out from shore on a beach known for its violent currents. Undoubtedly he'd been trying to impress the gaggle of girls now panicking on the shore. This was the first time I had met the Queen of Navarre's only child. I was less than impressed. He clearly couldn't dress, I could still smell him despite the fact that he'd drowned (and I needed to decided posthaste if I wished to reverse that before the matter was no longer in question), his nose was bigger than his mother's entire kingdom, and he was evidently more infatuated with female company than with his own survival. All of that could be fixed, if I was so inclined, __**if**__ he would be useful enough. I intended to destroy the entire House of Valois which made him, as the Heir of the House of Bourbon the new king of France. Reason enough to have him sympathetic to me, if he proved a fool I could always kill him later. I Call the Sea from his lungs, sent in Wind instead, reached out to restart his heart and in the instant he opened his eyes I knew I'd made a mistake. The spell flared back to life, the light from the north east where Peregrine was leading Revenge on yet another likely fruitless hunt was like a second sun, piercingly, burningly bright, and I could barely hear myself think over that benighted song. Why? He had no links of any kind to anyone and I had long since grown adept at ignoring that little ditty. _

_He tried to speak, coughed, cleared his throat, and reached out to me "Are you alright?" The hand on my arm BURNED like that damn sword had before I buried it under the flagstones of the Tower._

"_I'll take you to shore, perhaps you should leave swimming to the fish in the future. Your mother has enough grief without the loss of her only son through base lunacy" I snapped wanting him AWAY from me._

_He frowned, a flicker of fear followed by compassion, "My and my mother's thanks to you sir. You have me at a bit of a disadvantage since you clearly know my name but I have no knowledge of yours."_

"_Gabriel, Comte de Montgomery, Seigneur de Lorges" I said in a tone that invited no further conversation. He made a point of looking away as he curled up in the bottom of the boat with his chin on his knees but I could feel his regard from behind his waterlogged hair as I turned us back to the beach. I could smell his fear but it was mingled with something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on and for the first time in over a decade I…_

_(Kill it) Angnar howled, but I ignored him as I usually did. I was a bit surprised that he'd beaten Nimrais back from wherever it was that the shades of dead draigs went when they weren't 'guiding me to my full potential'._

_(Good morning, slug a bed) I greeted the white wyrm as he coiled around my soul (Pleasant dreams?) _

_He didn't deign to reply to my admittedly juvenile barb. It was NOT up to my usual standard but the brat had shaken me on some deep, fundamental level. Angnar while disgustingly direct about it was probably right, I should slip a blade up under his ribs. I could still easily claim that he'd succumbed to his foolish attempt to swim across the harbor. While Angnar's attention was all on young Henri Nimrais focused on me. His eye was on me far more intently than the boy's. According to every scrap of knowledge I possessed the white Draig had no power in the waking world except that which men gave him and yet I had no doubt that if I didn't meet his gaze the boy would soon be dead or worse. Why should I care? Why should I give any more place to the white wyrm? The boy had woken something long cold and still within. Part of me wanted to hide that little flame, part was eager to let Nimrais destroy it. Let the draig have it I decided, let the boy live._

I could have howled in frustration as that little flicker of the man I knew was lost. I HATED that damn white dragon as I had never hated anything before. I hadn't gone back to skimming for long when Jack pull me up short with a "What was that?"

I looked back up the page…

_The Winds were screaming like lost souls in the rigging as I glared down at the fool lying in a combination of spray, rain, and his own life's blood. _

"_Oh Davy" I forced his head up with the point of my boot dagger. This one was all mine I had no intentions of sharing it with that pair of overgrown lizards "Did you really think you could betray me?" His eyes lids fluttered, he'd lost too much blood to keep them open even with a dagger to his throat. This whole affair was terribly, terribly vexing. Neidr's little brat had been a boon until today. "Did you think I wouldn't find out about her? How could you have ever dreamed you'd get away with it?"_

_He had more guts than either of his parents. He met my gaze and held it. Proud as a Draig even after losing his entire crew and his leg. I fed him a little strength, I couldn't have him swooning on me and miss what I had in store for him now could I?_

"_Do you fear death, Davy?"_

_He said no, but he wasn't me, he couldn't lie well enough to fool an Ellyllon. "Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare? All your sins punished? And for only being seventeen, Davy, you have so very many deadly sins on your account."_

"_You should know; they were done for you and at your behest."_

"_Not all of them, not nearly all, Davy, but you have a point, you were the best of my servants until you went astray and just to prove I'm not completely evil I'm going to be merciful."_

_He'd lost too much blood to go pale but his nearly as depleted enaid managed it. I had taken the lessons I'd learned at Cromwell's knee and applied them to raising young Davy. Until that damn girl interfered things had been going splendidly. The boy had proven malleable, ambitious, with just the right combination of ruthlessness, loyalty, and creativity coupled with more power than a half-blood had any right to expect to be born with. Then she'd ruined it all. Women were an all fired unmitigated useless nuisance. I should slaughter the lot of them, the world would be so much simpler without their meddling. He knew me very, very well, he knew better than to expect anything resembling mercy. _

_I wove a Shadow of her appearing peaceful, cold, still._

"_Why couldn't you have left this between us?" he asked in defeat._

"_Because the minute she seduced you it stopped being between us."_

"_I assume that she isn't really dead?" He knew better than to even dream I'd be so…direct. _

"_Between" I confirmed. I had gotten a bit away from the whole using a song to frame a curse over the years as I'd gained skill and experience but I was feeling a bit nostalgic tonight._

_**What man sails the Mother Sea and dares to think he knows Her well?**_

_**The Winds blow soft and warm and suddenly She's in a swell**_

_**Oh, She'll take you for Her own, change your body, soul, and bone**_

_**And Her waves will roll you over as you vanish in the foam.**_

_I listened to him scream in agony as the change took him, took them both and the ship itself, though I had no intention of telling him that. Let him think the Kraken was merely a beastie that came to his call in his changed form. She would know but I made certain as I bound them both to the Sea that he would never realize that I had hidden his beloved within the ancient nearly immortal Leviathan. I canted my head considering his new visage. Certainly not an improvement over his old one but it was unique. _

"_You'll need a crew if you're to find her" I said when the hmmm…burbling? If' he had still been strictly human I would have called it whimpering but it was a decidedly different sound that emerged from his lipless orifice._

"_Finshd h-h-her-r-r?" It wasn't so much a stutter as the fact that he didn't quite know how to speak in his altered body._

_Now to twist the knife, the lie. The lie, that he, having Ellyllon eyes and assuming that I couldn't lie to him, would utterly believe. _

"_She's out there, between life and death, somewhere on the Sea. If you can find her, the curse will be broken and you can have that happily ever after they talk about in stories." I swatted a tentacle away from my boots and made a moue of distaste at the slime clinging to my hand. I wiped it on Davy's jerkin using the slime to add a dash of real necromancy to the curse. Avalon was a land created by the will of the Kings of Avalon and the cyfae – what exactly was to stop me from creating something similar. Oh, not nearly so large, beneath the Sea? I wondered how long it would take Davy to find his locker. I shifted a little on the deck as the newly awakened planks tried to send questing feelers up through my heels, trying to make me part of the ship. I singed the offending boards to make a point. "I'll grant you the right to sign anyone lost at Sea poised between life and death as a hand before the mast, your terms, Captain Jones. A friendly bit of advice, I wouldn't try setting foot on land, you might find the experience…uncomfortable."_

_He believed me, good, now he would spend the rest of his very long, as mere humans reckoned it, life in pursuit of a woman he would never be able to find because he would never realize that she was always with him. _

"_God will give me justice" he spat at me._

_I hadn't set the final bindings on the curse yet so on a whim "God? Do you really think that the God who created the stars and set them in their courses gives a rat's arse about you? About either of us? I'll make you a deal Davy Jones the day he defeats me in battle, destroys this vessel, and kisses your new pet is the day you will be free."_

_I took to the air in disgust, my vengeance less sweet than I had hoped since I now had to shoulder the tasks I had once set Davy myself so, France or the Low Countries? Both Admiral Coligny and the Prince of Orange needed my support. I settled on the Prince of Orange leaving the wedding of Henri Bourbon, newly King of Navarre and Margarite de Valois, Princess of France in the Admiral's undoubtedly capable hands. Yes, Paris would be a powder keg but Coligny was an old hand at politics and I'd wrapped enough spells around him that even the Queen's Mother's sorcerer, poisoners, and divers assassins would find killing him nigh well impossible._

_I excused myself from the tent as a breeze blew me some truly disturbing news. Apparently Gaspard de Coligny wasn't quite as safe as I might have hoped. The Guises had moved against him but the assassination attempt had gone awry (which meant that at least some of my spells were holding) resulting in a broken elbow and a lost finger both of which I could repair once I was certain that affairs here in the Gelderland were well in hand. I toyed with the notion of flying to Paris, it wasn't that long a flight, all things considered and if Coligny died support for the attack on the Duke of Alva's forces by the French army died with him which would leave Alva free to crush the little rebellion I was leading here. Except that things were decidedly fragile here right now as well. Even I couldn't be in two places at once no matter how much I needed to be in a dozen. Bledri and Taflu were both in Paris and while I had very little faith in that stupid sot Beldri, Taflu had proven to be quite an asset. Coligny would have to look after himself for a few days. The massive defeat of the Ottomans at Lepanto (where I had, to my everlasting annoyance, had to side WITH Pustule and had even developed a grudging respect for his brother (pity he was a bastard he would have made 10 times the king his brother did) Don Juan) had given Pustule a little breathing room but I'd convinced him to be overconfident in the aftermath and now the coasts of his Italian provinces were being raked by raiders. _

_I started to go back but I couldn't shake the sense of impending doom. Nimrais would undoubtedly find my jitters amusing._

_(On the contrary) the devil spoken of appeared right on cue (you have instincts for a reason and only a fool ignores them.)_

_I was tempted to stalk back into the tent just to make a point but that would be the action of a fool. Unlike the human cattle that surrounded me I didn't happen to consider pride a vice. There was no one better than I and I saw absolutely no reason to be humble there was, on the other hand, no greater vice than stupidity. I summoned flame and with the ease of long practice brought Paris immediately into focus. Finding Coligny proved more difficult and my uneasiness deepened. With all the spells of protection I had woven around him he should have been a beacon. The Queen's sorcerer was improving. Damn, him, her, or it. I knew whoever (whatever) it was wasn't Old Blood or cyfae and was drawing its power from blood magic but beyond that neither I nor the Draigs had had any luck tracking the practitioner down. I was going to truly enjoy slaughtering whoever it was once I found them for all the trouble they had caused me. I finally found the Duke de Guise, the Queen Mother, and the-dying-by-inches King who was crying as he screamed something I. Damn. I leapt into the air certain that he had just ordered not only Coligny but every noble Huguenot in Paris, and Paris was packed with Huguenots for the wedding. _

_I made record time, arriving just in time to watch the crowd shred Coligny at the Duke de Guise's feet. I winced as they posthumously gelded him. I hovered a moment as the bells rang wildly before perching like the world's most beautiful gargoyle safely above the maelstrom of death beginning to unfold below. Angnar was eager to join in the killing but I had no taste for random slaughter and instead turned my attention to considering how to compensate for this irritating snag in my plans. I needed France to check Spain while I pried the other Hapsburg lands apart. Killing the Queen Mother would have gone a long way toward achieving my goals but her sorcerer was good enough to keep her alive even if he (she, it) hadn't manage to keep me from slaughtering anyone else. _

_(Which is more than you can say for yourself) Nimrais needlessly reminded me. I didn't bother to answer. I had succeeded in convincing both she and her sons to NOT press matters in Italy. Fools (granted fools that were behaving as I wished them to. A peaceful and united France under the rule of a Valois king was nearly as much an anathema to me as England under Spanish rule) didn't they realize that they had ready allies on the Italian peninsula? That both Huguenots and Catholics would be in favor? That there was nothing like a common enemy to unite a divided people? I watched as the slaughter spread the mob running wild through the streets sparing no one in Huguenot garb right down to the wailing infants. Angnar complained again wanting a closer look as a group of young men trapped a matron and her young children in a blind alley clearly intending to play an extended game of cat and mouse. Perhaps I would go down and…_

_I tried to sink my teeth into the arm locked around my throat the question of how I'd gotten instantaneously from Paris to the Peregrine secondary to turning the tables on the bastard that had ambushed me. I nearly broke my teeth on the armor the son of a bitch was wearing. Nimrais' rage made it hard for me to think as he howled about the Lord of Arrata and the song, that damn song, now that I was on the Peregrine's deck with the mast before me the light and the song were blinding, defending, addling. Things buried, frozen, and long dead stirred. Desperate I tried to twist myself loose but my attacker for all his slender build was far stronger than I, stronger even than Mannwan who had also been gifted Dragon's strength just as I was. I tried to toss him off but he weighed a bloody ton. I gasped spots dancing before my eyes as his grip tightened even further cutting off live giving air. I unleashed the ice that had come with the shades of the Draigs, with all that metal it wouldn't take long to freeze him but he didn't even shiver, it wasn't even sufficient to give me a gasp of air. Air, I needed air. I couldn't get Risanca free but I had other daggers. The feeling was fading from my fingers. I growled as I thrust with all of my remaining strength into what felt like a joint of his metal casing but the blade shattered. _

_(Peace) a voice sang in my mind (Peace Rhys I mean you no ill)._

_I couldn't get the breath to reply and darkness hovered at the edges of my sight as the spots spread and the waking world began to slip away no matter how hard I fought._

_(Rhys is no more. I am __**DRACO**__!) I roared in my mind trying to expel the invader. I invited Nimrais and Angnar far deeper into myself then I ever had before knowing I needed allies against this being that held me pinioned both within and without. _

_(Burn the ship) Nimras snapped but the Lord of Arrata, already deep in my mind, blocked me from calling fire. My head cleared a little as he shifted his grip. Bastard! That was no mistake on his part, he'd let me have the air, keeping me on the edge of consciousness. The insult sliced deep into my already wounded pride. How dare he discount me? How dare he be so blasé? I roar my rage at being a prisoner in my own mind. Hell be damned if I would let him take me. The more conniving parts of me pointed out that I was no mind healer, that I had no idea what I was doing or how to fight this battle, that I was overmatched and out of my depth. I ignored them as with Nimrais and Angnar I flung my mental self against the blue-white presence that had kidnapped and assaulted me. _

_(Who are you? What are you?) I shrieked as it swatted Angnar aside trapping him with easy negligence. Nimrais and I proved wilier opponents. There! I plunged into the opening and as I reft my way through I received the faintest whisper of answer…(Starkindler)_

_It was only when Nimrais failed to follow that I realized that I had again be out witted. Golden, everything was golden, gently gleaming, the air itself perfumed with slumber and peace. I tried, I tried to fight but it coiled around and through me sinking deeply in waking things half remembered. All things the I'd let Nimrais take flickered back to life, hope, joy, love, peace, kindness, compassion, loyalty, patience, friendship. I stopped fighting. I no longer wanted to. I could feel him let my body go, could feel the rush of life giving air accompanied by an even greater one of warmth and elation. I felt better than I had in years. I felt ALIVE. I had rejected guilt and grief but had lost joy and peace too without ever realizing it until this moment. I leaned into Peregrine's mast drinking in the piece of my heart I'd left there letting it fill the hollow void I had allowed Nimrais to carve into me. _

"_Who are you?" I croaked through my battered throat._

"_Ari-El, Lord of Arrata" he laid a hand on my shoulder and I looked up into eyes as intensely blue as mine were green. Long golden curls pooled around his shoulders, the features though were almost identical to the creature that my Grandfather had sent to judge me decades ago. Entire too pretty, almost as beautiful as me which simply wasn't to be bourn. His answer didn't appear to be a lie but it wasn't the name (or title?) I had pulled from his own mind either. I chose not to mention it for I was certain he had never intended to give it. He held out one mailed hand and as I took it I was suddenly in Henri's rooms in the palace with no sign of the Lord of Arrata._

_Nimrais snarled behind me as I stepped forward out of the shadows. (So you let him have is way with you!) the Draig spat as if I'd suddenly become a willing whore to the enemy, contempt dripped from every syllable. (You let him make you human again, let him make you back into a mewing fool.)_

_I remembered what I had seen in the Lord of Arrata's mind. The cold, alien touch of Starkindler, and the gentle humanity hidden within. Nimrais had lost I wasn't going to attack Ari-El for him. I shivered though a tendril of fear licking its way round my heart. He was direly powerful I had been far too easily subdued. While I was grateful I swore to never again be so easily taken._

_There were shouts in the hall as the King's Guard boiled into the room "Not the Prince of Navarre or young Conde." Someone ordered as young noblemen were forcibly dragged from the room and summarily slaughtered while Henri begged on his knees for their lives instead of his own._

_(This is your fault) the Draig reminded me (Every drop of blood shed is on your hands. Wouldn't it be so much easier not to bear the burden?) _

_It would indeed and for a heartbeat I was tempted. Tempted to be Draco again because it __**was**__ ever so much easier. But even as the keen knife of my grief for Milady Latimer pierced me anew, as fresh as the day she was murdered, I could not give it up because Henri needed me to be Rhys. Henri needed me to save as many of his people as I could. I laid hand on his quivering shoulder and listened to his fervent prayers, listened to what he called out for, for forgiveness for the Catholics who slaughtered his friends, comfort for the families destroyed, for peace, for healing, for wisdom, prayers for his enemies but none for himself. Here was a man every inch as good or better than Milady had been, if I went back to being Draco, he would be destroyed, probably by my own hand. For Henri I chose to remain Rhys. If, in the end, all I had left were grief, despair, anguish, and guilt then so be it but I would __**never**__ again be a purely a Draig any more than I had ever been truly human. I would be an Ellyllon, a blending of the best of both, no matter what life or death chose to throw at me._

_(Go back to Hell.) I told the White Draig as I turned my attention to saving as many lives as I could. I left the palace with Nimrais' mocking laughter nearly as loud as the screams of the dying. _

_(Men are no better than Draigs though they like to dream they are. The mob's blood is up and it will not be turned aside)._

_We would see about that I swore to myself._

**Littlebird: **Yes the end of the last chapter was (and was intended to be) downright cruel. My apologies that this one is so short, I had originally planned three more sequences for it (they will now be the opening scenes of the next chapter Lost in the Dark). As always thank you for the read and review!!

**Devil Red: **Peregrine survives for 3 reasons first (and most important) Sea and the Winds are on his side, second he's just flat out faster and more maneuverable than Revenge, and third he's smarter than Revenge. Revenge has yet to even come close. Not that he ever gives up trying….

Blake is among the group of servants, he isn't singled out by name.

We were in Feb of 1554 at the end of the last chapter we end this one in Aug of 1572

The Lore of Ireland is a good 'catalog' but makes for somewhat dry reading.

11


	32. Lost in the Dark

**Author's notes: A huge thank you to all my reviewers!!**

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 18: Lost in the Dark**

I skimmed over the blood bath and its aftermath. Elizabeth made no protest. I wasn't certain if she had merely given up (unlikely I wasn't certain that she knew the meaning of the term) or had become a bit weary of Mallory's blood soaked past.

_I landed neatly in Bess' window and sighed. Between the massacres in France and the war in the Netherlands I was exhausted but I hadn't been to England in weeks. Bess was going to think I'd died, not that she would mourn being free of Draco. Now that she was more firmly on the throne Draco, while certainly still useful was no longer necessary for her immediate survival. She and Eyes were playing cards in her chamber with several of her ladies as chaperones. All I wanted to do was sleep, barring that I wanted to ask Bess what it was she wanted, accomplish said annoying chore (since everything was annoying at the moment) and get my weary arse back across the Channel where there was real work to be done. Unfortunately I had a reputation to maintain. A reputation that while I was no longer certain I wanted was too bloody useful to discard. So. Draco. The only thing I was sure of was Rhys or Draco, I was the Prince of Avalon, and being born to privilege I had certain obligations, the first of which was duty. To whom was a good question but for now to Henri of Navarre, Elizabeth of England, and Gilliam of Orange I would puzzle out the rest later. I tried to generate the pervasive cold that heralded the coming of Draco and nearly swooned. Well, sprawling face down in the middle of the pot wouldn't do my reputation much good either. It would be so easy to reach out and take what I needed, to rob life from others to restore my flagging strength. No, never again, I swore softly._

_A quick glance in the mirror to double check that nothing was out of place and then a touch of Shadow to set the mood. The darkness enveloped Bess and Eyes slowly growing up from the floor then pressing in as a shrinking globe. So focused on the game were they that they played two hands in near complete darkness (Bess was such a cheat). Eyes finally looked up in confusion. When Bess followed suit I slowly formed the Shadow of Draco coalescing out of the darkness. Fear and boredom vied for dominance. Nearly a score of years of dealing with Draco had made such marvels commonplace but they had both learned that even in alliance a Draig must be approached with the utmost caution. _

_Bess was afraid of me. I knew that, had reveled in it. Now, now it both pleased and sickened me. I was Draig and human, Draco and Rhys in uneasy and uncertain mix. I wanted to drive that boredom out of her eyes and teach her such a lesson that she would never dare the slightest of disrespect ever again; I wanted to lay my head on her shoulder and weep for the all the horrors I had done and seen in my two score years. Since I could not weep and was too weary for lessons I compromised with myself and sat down. Angnar and Nimrais were of course irate and disgusted, that pleased both the Draig and the man. _

"_One hears dire rumors, both from France and the Low Countries" Bess began cautiously._

_I needed a drink before reporting on the situation on the continent, preferably an entire bottle, perhaps even a keg. _

"_Your courtesy has lessened somewhat of late" I purred coolly._

_If I had been anyone else she would have snapped 'Why? You never drink it!' It had pleased Draco to force the arrogant 'Queen' of England to pour him drinks. I still felt Bess could use being taken down a peg or twelve but this seemed…petty but his time I __**wanted**__ the damn absinthe. I wanted to get drunk enough to forget. France was ablaze and not just against the Huguenots. What had begun as an attack on (and continued to be) Protestants was being used as a cover between Catholics to settle old scores under the cover of general lawlessness. Every time I closed my eyes I saw them, the children. The slaughter had been no respecter of age. I had tried, I swore to Jane's God, I had tried but the mobs were mad, crazed. And that basket, that basket full of children would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. Weighted and tossed in the Seine like so many unwanted kittens. Too late. I'd been too late far too often in these horrible weeks. I couldn't be everywhere. I shouldn't be here. I should have ignored Bess' message. Nor were my hands clean. No few killers had found themselves with one of my daggers growing from their ribs but…_

_I surprised them both by tossing it back in a single gulp. My fingers itched for the bottle but I was the Prince of Avalon and __**PROPER**__ princes do not get slobbering drunk. Instead I began to report on France and the Low Countries. Not the slaughter, Bess would be horrified and Eyes darkly intrigued, but what mattered to them, the politics. Who was doing what with and to whom. No screams, no howling cries of fresh spilled blood. England was blessedly quiet and something hard and knotted in my core loosened a little as I spread a spymaster's dream worth of knowledge like a banquet before them._

_Eyes was clearly trying to figure out how he could use the knowledge to profit since he was perpetually in debt. I had seven times the work, less than a quarter of the estates (admittedly the bulk of my servants were gifted members of the Old Blood and I could make gems in a pinch), and yet __**I**__ managed to stay solidly in the black. Bess was more thoughtful._

"_Tales are circulating of horrible atrocities but tales grow in the telling."_

_I intended to brush her off with some biting comment but instead a torrent of brutally reality slipped the usually well guarded gates of my lips. I took a deep breath and cut it off before I laid too many horrors bare. Bess didn't need to know how bad it was._

"_Is the icy assassin finally losing his nerve?" Eyes dared to quip. I was on him long before he even dreamed of knowing it. The Draig wanted him dead. I fought it but it was stronger than it used to be or I was weaker after nearly two decades of letting it rule me. My fingers tightened round his neck as I choked to life out of him. Bess' slender fingers scrambled against mine._

"_Please, please let him go."_

_I dropped him gasping to the floor._

"_You're burning with fever" she whispered the terror of disease she'd inherited from her father coming to the fore she took several steps back wiping her hands on her dress._

"_On the contrary, I am, for the first time, well. I have to go, people are dying."_

"_And you care" she breathed, not mockingly but stunned "Go, there is noting here so pressing as to keep you."_

_A quick bow and out the window. I was too weary to cross the Channel again tonight. The thought that I could take what I needed since I would surely save more than I killed flickered through my mind but I did my best to ignore it. Now that I was here there was something I wanted to do, I certainly had the strength for a quick flight to the stable, I could sleep in the saddle enroute._

_I stretched enjoying the late September morning for the first time in too many years. How long since I had known the simple joy of a long ride on a well trained horse? How could I have given up joy and never even MISSED it? The sunrise had been glorious and I resolved to never miss another. Eighteen years of life squandered on power and slaughter. I wanted to retch. The Draigs had no idea what they were missing and I pitied them. What was I doing here? I wheeled my mount and started back._

_I drew up the palfrey gelding both our ears flicking forward then turned him back and kicked him into a flat out gallop. Someone was in trouble. I told the horse to find me and vaulted into flight from the saddle. The boy, a squire's son by his dress, lay crumpled on the ground while a pair of ruffians argued over who got his horse. I could use Shadow to disperse them but the Draig was still up from Eyes' impertinent comment last night (well more precisely very early this morning) and wanted blood. I did use Shadow to get between them and the too still boy. It was only when I stepped over the blood that I realized the boy at my feet was Henry's son. These were dead men. I flung Shadow to the winds and threw myself on the burlier of the two. He was dead before he even know what hit him the second only lived long enough to register that death had come for him. I could see no ysbryd for the boy but he was fading fast on me. His pulse fluttered like a weak nestling under my fingers but there was little blood and no visible wounds. I slid a hand under his head. Ah, a snapped neck. I knit things back together thankful that I wasn't trying to do this last night. He coughed eyes fluttering open. I quickly covered the dead in Shadow._

_He smiled "Lord Tallyrand." How on earth did this child who looked no older than my (rather annoying) 'eight' years know who I was? I had been Draco for at least a decade before his birth and all of his brief life._

"_I fear you have me at a disadvantage, goodly gentle."_

"_Oh" he scrambled to his feet and gave me a quite courtly bow, then stiffened in a manner so like his grandfather than I could almost see the man even though the boy favored his mother "James Norrington, at your service, m'Lord. And might I say that it's a delight to finally make your acquaintance."_

"_Indeed?" _

"_Oh, __**yes**__, Milord, and it is __**so**__ good to see that you are finally well, you really must come and see father, he misses you __**terribly**__. We've been praying for you __**every**__ night." He had inherited his father's tendency to speak too quickly when excited. I had come to do exactly that but looking at the boy I could feel my nerve rapidly failing despite the fact that the boy had just proved the at least in principle he wanted to see me._

_Keen to change the subject since I was becoming progressively more uncomfortable under a hero worshipping stare I __**knew**__ I didn't and likely would never deserve I asked, "Does your father know that you're out alone on this horse?" _

_**I**__ could have handled the piebald stallion at his age but I was beginning to suspect that the thieves I'd killed had chanced upon him after the fact and had merely been dividing the belongs of what they thought was a corpse. My own horse came jingling around the bend which left me with a quandary. Neither horse was suitable for the boy. My gelding was willing to follow the stallion. Disappointing but then he wasn't one of my regular mounts. I gave him a boost onto my blood bay and swung up onto the feisty piebald stallion. I couldn't see Henry owning this horse._

_A small nod. _

"_Someone said you were too little to control him?"_

_A second nod._

"_You aren't too little but if you're going to ride a horse like this you have to be clever." I dropped back alongside him intent of on spending the ride to the Norringtons' comfortable country house teaching him the fundamental foundation of horsemanship before he got himself killed again. He absorbed it like a pious priest receiving a message from Gabriel the Archangel himself. We were nearly to the house when Wind bore me the baying of hounds and desperate voices. Henry had discovered that he was missing a son. I wondered how many children I'd missed over the years, how big the family was, how many children they had lost that I could have saved, was the boy's mother still alive?_

_I urged us to a canter but I was more concerned with getting the boy back intact than getting him there immediately. I let him pull ahead as we entered the stretch my nerve faltering. What right did I have to return here? And more importantly what horror might my blood drenched soul bring here? The last thing I ever wanted was to bring tragedy to this haven I had created. Henry was chiding the boy love, relief, anger, and worry vying for dominance in his voice but the boy is too excited to listen._

"_But Father he's here, he's here, he's here."_

"_Who" and then he saw me. He urged his old palomino to a gallop. Prometheus had to be thirty. _

"_Henry" I began, that was as far as I got before I was swallowed in a bear hug. He actually pulled us off the horses (admittedly it was tough to embrace on horse back not that I had much experience in trying). _

"_I knew you'd be back" he had my feet of the ground and was hugging me hard enough to break ribs "I knew it."_

"_Henry" I tried to begin again but I was shushed "Nothing matters, you're back. Welcome home."_

"_Uncle Rhys?!" My namesake had been little more than a drooling toddler when I last saw him and now he was a man grown likely married with children of his own._

"_You can have him later" Henry intercepted young Rhys "make certain your brother makes it back to your Mother before she has hysterics."_

_My namesake tucked his brother up in front of him on the piebald and thankfully took the yapping hounds with him. Henry sat on a convenient log. I ordered the horses to stay close and let them graze while I sat at Henry's feet and hiding us behind an outer Shadow I dropped the one between us._

"_Henry, I, please forgive me."_

"_For what?"_

"_Henry, I was going to slaughter you and your family if it hadn't been for Anuion" which reminded me that I had a great deal of groveling to do on that front since I hadn't seen him yet "I would have murdered you all."_

"_It wasn't you"_

_Oh, but it was, I thought, perhaps more the real me than Rhys had been certainly more than he was now. The ghost of Rhys was strong enough to draw me here but was there actually enough of the boy who wanted to spend his time creating a treatise of all useful medical knowledge to even bridle Draco? For every moment I vowed to never go back there were two that I was tempted to say to hell with it all. Not caring about anyone but yourself and your goals was no small advantage to an assassin. _

"_Rhys" he tipped my head up forcing me to meet his eyes "__**Rhys**__" it was like an anchor finally catching in stormy seas with a reefs to windward and hard by the lea "Talk to me, please."_

_I shook my head "Tell me what I missed."_

_For a second he wanted to protest then he proceeded to spend the next three hours talking about the humble joys and occasional tragedies of the life of a country squire. I just let his voice wash over me until he reached young James._

"_Try to keep him off that piebald until I can return and give him more lessons lest he break his neck again."_

_Henry digested the fact that his youngest (surviving) child had gotten himself killed with a fair degree of aplomb though I was willing to wager everything I owned that the boy was in for a very stern lecture later, "Thank God you returned when you did then. And Rhys, please stay, at least the night, we would love to have you."_

"_I can't" I swallowed "I've been spending most of my time in France since St. Bartholomew's. I shouldn't even be here" I said but couldn't seem to force myself to rise and leave "I've been saving as many as I can" Henry was Catholic, why should he care that Protestants were being slaughtered "but the bodies just keep piling up. No sooner to do I get things quieted down in one town than things flare up in another."_

_Henry's answer was to gather me up in another hug. The earlier one I had granted him knowing when I arrived it was inevitable but I stiffened this time. If he's close enough for this he can slip a dagger up under your ribs at his leisure part of me whispered nor was I some fragile little fool who needed to be mollycoddled through life. I started to pull away but he doggedly hung on._

"_If you're going to run off again for God alone knows how long the least you can do is grant me this."_

_Phrased that way how could I refuse? I had to admit there was a restful quiet here that was the antithesis of what my life had been like since my return to it. At the first shiver I decided it was time to end our reunion for now knowing what was likely to follow. No one living needed to know that my adjustment back from merciless Draig to somewhat morally ambiguous Ellyllon was not as effortless as one might have hoped but Henry's fingers tightened._

"_Stay" it was a plea. Henry had always held the more than slightly mad notion that friends should share moments of weakness and thus bolster one another. I was of the opinion that having a weakness was in and of itself a serious problem but to bloody intentionally __**reveal**__ it was tantamount to suicidal lunacy. A second shiver. Moment of truth, I knew it would wound Henry if I left now and I'd hurt him enough over the last eighteen years. It started with the basket children. I wasn't sure why, I hadn't stuffed them in a damned great basket and dropped them into the river to drown like so many unwanted kittens. All I had done was find them, hours too late even for me but none of their ysbrds had realized they were already dead. None of them had been old enough to really talk but they'd all looked at me with those dead eyes as if I could somehow make it right. All of them, Jane's God, but France was a walking graveyard and the very thought of going back turned my guts to water. Faster and faster the faces of the dead tumbled through my mind as I shook like a benighted palsy victim in Henry's arms. I was furious with myself. I was the Prince of Avalon, master of more magic and knowledge than any half-dozen professors or Udds be they Ellyllon or dynol. I should have better __**control **__of myself. This was sloppy and sloppy gets you killed. The iron will that had seen me through so many things that my instructors had thought impossible just crumbled like a sand castle before the tide before the flashbacks. I was panting into Henry's chest by the time it had run its course. _

"_How could you tell?"_

"_How many times did you sing me through one of these attacks?" That was different, I helped those I deemed worthy, __**I**__ shouldn't ever NEED anything or anyone._

"_Rhys, you're flesh and blood, and sometimes the flesh is weak. There's no shame in it."_

_I sat up fury boiling in my veins, not at Henry but at myself "I have to go. There's work to be done." If you fall off the damn horse (as if!!) you get back on. I swallowed. Back to France. I had no intention of allowing myself to malinger. _

"_Promise me you'll be back."_

_A quick nod. _

"_Come any time, your place is set every meal, a guest room is always prepared for you, for as long as my blood endures" he offered the hand he'd slashed years ago "friends?"_

_I took it in a firm clasp "For as long as I draw breath."_

I glanced out we were running short on time so I flipping past several more pages coming to an abrupt halt. Sweet Jesus what had happened to Mallory?

_I tried to pay attention to the dressing down Bess seemed intent on giving me, I did, if only to reduce the weeping, the pleading, the shrieks that simply would NOT diminish. But they wouldn't stop, no matter what I did. The mother that had begged me to spare her children, the little boy who had tried to defend his even younger siblings, bloody and bright in my mind's eye. I stared at my hands as if they belonged to someone else. I'd killed them. I shook my head trying to snap out of the surreal disjointed state of mind I seemed to have fallen into. It was like I'd been wrapped in cotton and was seeing the world through a veil. Everything but my memories of Rathlin, (yesterday, was it only yesterday? No, longer, a full fortnight) which had edges like fresh broken glass and just as cutting. 'Honestly' I tried telling myself, 'You've been killing for nearly two score years. It's a bit late in the game for a case of nerves.' '__**Never children**__' something else wailed back. Jane's God and all the Draigs but I was talking to myself (not in and of itself usually alarming but I felt fractured, displaced). I tried again to listen to Bess but they just would NOT bloody STOP. I had never really been all that impressed with meditation when I'd encountered it on my circumnavigation a lifetime ago but it sounded like a more useful tactic than ripping my bloody ears off which given that the problem was inside my head would be beyond useless. Instead of the calm, centered peace I had been trying to attain I merely completely blocked out Bess' droning lecture leaving myself with nothing but the bloody slaughter at Rathlin for company. Hunted, I had __**hunted**__ those children as relentlessly and more successfully than my deranged aunt had ever hunted my sister and I. My sister. I could hear her. Neither of us had known how to talk but I knew, I __**KNEW**__ she'd been begging me to save her. They'd been begging me to let them live. Killed them, killed them all. Bess wanted Ireland cowed by a show of force. Any and all means necessary. Any and all, all and any. __**SHUT UP!**__ I'd never begged. Not even under Skeffington's fists but I would beg now if I thought it would help. Shut up, please, God, Christ, Draigs, please shut up, please…please. If I say I'm very sorry and wish I'd never done it?_

_I started when Eyes joined us cracking my head against the wall hard enough to see stars. Quiet. _

"_We did to send thee to Ireland to effect the complete and total submission of that island under their proper anointed Queen" Bess was still on the 'why on Earth have you not accomplished in a little over a month what the crowned heads of England have been trying to do for centuries?' diatribe. My occasional excessive arrogance aside I wasn't her bloody God. Powerful, yes, omnipotent, not even in my wildest dreams. The ringing in my head subsided replaced by a litany of children begging for the mercy I heartily wished I had given them. I ripped at my ears as I let the Shadow keep up the appearance of calm attention. When that failed I cracked my head against the wall again._

'_Brilliant' a voice that sounded disconcerting like my own sneered 'beating your own bloody brains in will certainly help.'_

_At the moment I didn't care if it killed me as long as it STOPPED. I smacked it against the wall a few more times for good measure._

_The sound something heavy hitting the table distracted me from another jaw jarring crack against the stones._

"_Draco" Bess snapped "Hast thou nothing to say for thine self?"_

_Sloppy of me to miss that I was expected to make a reply. Sloppy gets you killed. Poor children, they must have been sloppy. Not very nice of me to kill them though. Henry would be very disappointed in me. 'You're pathetic' I sneered 'and you've clearly shaken what little sense you ever had loose.'_

"_The Queen asked you a question, thrice" Eyes simply could not resist putting in his two pence. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, please, I'd take it back if I could, just please stop crying. _

"_By the side of the Sea, restless and deep_

_The sun shone at midnight, I was not asleep._

_One lone survivor lies bleeding – I keel._

_And into her heart I rammed in the steel." I sing-songed. Bess frowned, startled._

"_Covered in blood I sank down in shame_

_With only myself to blame,_

_Rathlin – stripped bare as a bone,_

_The blood of the children it calls from the stones_

_A castle of sorrow perched on a hill_

_I dream of you still.'_

'_Leave poetry to those who actually have a talent for it' the other me quipped. Hunted them through the caves using magic. They never had a prayer, not against me. So little, some even littler than my sister had been. Left her, coward. Killed them, monster. I was never going to forget July 22__nd__ 1575 any more than I was going to forget February 12__th__ 1554. I had let myself become Draco over Jane. If there was anything at all benevolent watching over men I prayed it would slay me if I made the least sign of doing anything so destructively foolish again. But then I knew full well no kindly eyes watched over us, otherwise I would have stayed dead with Jane or been struck down before I could personally order and participate in the slaughter of several hundred children whose fathers had foolishly believed that by sending them to Rathlin Island they were removing them from the horrors of the looming war. Well I'd certainly proven that no place was safe. I could tell myself for the rest of my life that the island had been a legitimate military target with it's small garrison, fortress, and strategic importance in the smuggling of mercenaries from Scotland but I wasn't ever going to believe the excuse I'd given the men when I gave the order, that by slaying this handful without mercy the Irish would know that England was utterly serious and would might yield without further bloodshed. The slightest of keens slipped through the gates of my lips._

"_Draco?"_

_Bess shooed Eyes out of the way, good he was a pain in the arse. So certain he would make a better commander than I. Never did seem to realize that there was more to leading a campaign than being a reasonably decent jouster (most of the other courtiers were letting him win) and being able to organize MOCK combat. Fool. Arrogant fool at that. I tried singing lullabies in my head but the dead didn't seem to care._

_Bess touched the wall fingers coming away bloody. _

"_Stay with him" she snapped to Eyes. _

"_You have servants" Eyes began but she was gone in a swish of oversized skirts. He glared at me but I didn't bother glaring back. It wasn't going to make them stop. Who would have thought a few hundred dead children could be so loud?_

"_Draco?"_

'_He sounds worried' other me commented dryly. _

"_Don't call me that" I protested softly._

"_Then what should I call you?"_

"_Rhys, don't you remember?" I flicked a Shadow of Lord Tallyrand across Draco._

_Eyes, froze, stunned then called one of the pages and sent him to fetch Dr. Dee from down the hall. Silly git. I wondered why. I didn't recall Eyes ever being that fond of the Queen's conjurer. One of the few things we agreed on. Why on Earth she would take the word of a magicless 'wizard' over mine on things magical was beyond me. SHUT UP! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _

_Wherever it was Bess had rushed off to Dr. Dee must have been closer. _

"_Rhys" Eyes sounded worried, he never would have been concered for Draco, "let him see you" for an instant I nearly dropped Shadow altogether but I had more wits left about me than that and it wasn't as if Dr. Dee didn't know about Draco the Ellyllon Prince. _

_Eyes went to him and whispered something I couldn't hear over the din in my head. Sloppy. Other me snapped haughtily. _

_Dr. Dee shot Eyes a 'what do you expect me to do about it look' and then proceeded to rummage through Bess' sweets (she wouldn't believe me that they were rotting the teeth right out of her head either. Git.) Shut up! He stirred and mixed several things muttered something 'magic' sounding and passed me a cup which I sniffed. Cinnamon, nutmeg, and…chocolate. Now why hadn't I thought to try that before? I upended the cup ignoring the other me wailing that it was far too much to be safe. The golden tide rose up and bore me away._

_I woke to warm vinegary breath blowing across my face. It took several drowsy chocolate gilded minutes for the implications of that to break upon my lethargic mind. I was in bed with Bess? I slid an eye open and looked straight into her aged face. Thankfully I was still too young by far for anything…awkward to have happened. So what exactly had happened that Bess was holding me like her favorite doll? Did it really matter? I felt SO much better, better than I had since before Jane died. I sighed and snuggled against Bess since it wouldn't be nice to disturb her. She was wearing one of the rings I'd made her as part of my apology for being such an arse as Draco. I made such pretty sparklies. Either she was waking on her own or I had disturbed her. _

"_Rhys?" she sounded so worried. Silly Bess, I was just fine. _

_I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and floated over to the mirror. She rose and followed. "Rhys" was repeated more demandingly._

_I looked better too, more rested. I'm SO very pretty. "Yes, Bess?"_

_Some of the tension seemed to bleed out of her "We were most gravely concerned for thy welfare. Thou wert a very naughty knave and didst come within a hair's breadth of slaying thyself."_

_That was enough to render me instantly sober. I hadn't just come close. I should be dead. Very, very dead. Not intentionally like Neidir but I had drunk thrice the dosage that had been fatal to an adult Ellyllon of no little power, so why was I alive? Not that I wasn't thankful. I had been tormented by Rathlin but not enough to commit suicide. _

"_Bess" I began but her ladies arrived to dress her. _

"_We will speak betides" she gestured to the bed "rest a little more."_

_Normally I would have snipped at that and flounced off in a huff but I must have missed some of the chocolate because I did just that. _

_Late in the afternoon bathed, bedecked, bejeweled, bemused but bordering on befuddled I betook my buttocks to Bess' Privy Chambers. _

_The barest of nods acknowledge that my arrival, hidden from all eye but hers and Eyes, had been noted. I had never particularly thought that Eyes had been all that fond of Rhys yet he looked relieved. Odd, the entire thing was odd. Yesterday the world had been wrapped in cotton while Rathlin had been painfully clear. Now it was Rathlin that was distant as if someone had drawn a curtain across my memories dulling to an ache what had been agony yesterday._

_She waved me closer as she dismissed all but Walshingham, Cecil, and Eyes. _

_I bowed "With thy permission I will quit the gracious light of thy presence and return to the outer darkness of the Pale of Ireland."_

"_Thou shalt NOT have it!" She thundered at me._

_I blinked at her, stunned "Prithee what task doth thou intend to set me? Or art thou dismissing me from thy service?"_

"_Thou shalt go to sea to restore unto my treasury that which thou hast lost, 87,000 pounds sterling."_

_Huh?? Princes of the Blood do not gap like dying fish, even if they want to. I had never taken a shilling from Bess' bloody miserly treasury. _

"_Thou dost confuse me with one of thy subjects" I snapped. I honestly had no desire to ever set foot in northern Ireland again but… "I am not given to abandoning that which I have begun when Ireland."_

"_Thou SHALT obey." She interrupted "Thou shalt take the place of our subject Captain Drake and wilt go and plunder New Spain. Thou hast boasted of thy prowess on the seas. Now thou shalt prove it."_

_Draig rising I scoffed. How dare she presume to command me? _

"_Rhys, please my coffers need thine effort at sea more than thy help in Ireland" Bess was certainly not above using tears to get her way but by the shifts in her enaid, she meant them. "Swear to me that thou shalt yield the matter of Ireland and shalt go to sea instead."_

"The predator in your brother is little troubled by battle, bloody mayhem, or the slaughter of the morally questionable but he can not endure the slaughter of children or the loss of that which he has placed under his protection" a voice that sounded familiar but that I couldn't immediately place said from behind me pulling me out of the journal "His inability to rescue your sister, my namesake, in the angheuol has always preyed upon his mind."

"How did ye get in here? And who are ye?"

"The Lord of Aratta" the golden haired figure behind me answered "if you want my formal title. The young Prince of Avalon generally calls me the Dark Lady though. You may call me Ari-El if you are less inclined to formality. And I am not here."

To demonstrate he walked right bloody through me. "You could call this a Shadow if you like."

"You wouldn't" Jack observed.

"The methods are utterly different but the results are the same. But I did not come to discuss myself. You have done your brother a great wrong that will not be easily righted."

Jack blinked in surprise "I have no bloody idea what ye're referring te."

"No, I dare say you don't. Your brother's tight lips have very nearly proven both your downfalls" he shook his head "It is a great pity your brother lacks foresight so much might have been different. Be that as it may I came to fill a gap in your brother's journal and to give you time to rest so that you can finish that which is needed."

"And how will you do that?"

"Because my greatest gifts are those your brother utterly lacks, foresight and the ability to master time. For you the hour will stand until you after you have all had a night's rest."

The Lord of Aratta himself faded to be replaced by Queen Elizabeth's chamber where Eyes was cradling the utterly limp young Mallory.

_The Queen herself rushed in with Anuion in tow. _

"_What happened?" Anuion snapped ripping Mallory whose head lolled limply into his shoulder from Eyes "What did you give the Prince?" he growled a Dr. Dee sounding rather Draig-like himself._

"_Just a bit of cinnamon, nutmeg, and chocolate."_

_The Queen's hands flew to her mouth then she barked "How much?"_

_It was Anuion that answered as he laid Mallory on the Queen's bed "Too much, __**far**__ too much." Mallory's chest was barely moving, his lips and fingertips had taken on a bluish cast. _

"_Can you do anything for him?"_

_Anuion had pulled a medallion from around his and cupping in hands over it seemed to be pleading._

"_I hear you. And I come."_

"_Come swiftly" he begged as he pinched Mallory's nose, tilted his head back, and breathed into his slack mouth while he wrapped a hand around his wrist._

"_Swift enough?" the Lord of Aratta asked as his bottomlessly dark blue eyes swept the room. "Allow me" he commanded and Anuion scrambled out of his way as a barrier of crackling lighting like energy bisected the room. He laid a hand on Mallory's head. Instantly his breathing deepened and his color began to improve. After a few minutes the Lord of Aratta placed both palms on Mallory's temples while his fingers seemed to stretch and lengthen as they burrowed into Mallory's dark hair. His eye opened, panicked, his hands clawed at the Lord of Aratta's as he thrashed against the covers but his golden crowned captor was utterly unmoved and, at length, Mallory sagged in his hands though there was a subtle tension in his face._

"_You just can't stop fighting can you? Even when it is for your own good and to your own advantage to yield." The Lord of Aratta asked him in a tone that didn't seem to expect an answer. The tableau held for some time with only motion the rise and fall of both their chests. _

"_Rest" he commanded softly then released Mallory who sighed, eyes falling shut breath settling into the pattern of deep healing sleep._

_The barrier dispersed as the Lord of Aratta crossed the room "I need to speak with you, privately."_

_Eyes put himself between the Queen and the Lord of Aratta. "I will not leave my liege undefend" He merely vanished mid-sentence. _

"_Any other protests?"_

_Dr. Dee and Anuion both fled as the Queen turned on the Lord of Aratta "What hast thou done to him?"_

"_He will come to no harm though he may be less likely to challenge a god in the future. There are those who would take far more exception to his behavior than I."_

"_Thou claimest to be God?"_

"_Not your Christian deity. You should have learned" he gestured to the sleeping form on the bed "that there is more behind the old legends than mere superstition. And, yes, milady, I __**AM**__ a god. I would not think that a woman with such fondness for diamonds would treat the finest in her collection so shabbily. Do you know what the Prince considers a diamond?"_

_At a small shake of the Queen's head "Living purity crushed between fire and earth. Romantic but not completely inaccurate." He rolled a diamond nearly as big as a quail's egg around his palm. It picked up every scrap of light and refracted it in a rainbow of dazzling color. The Queen licked her lips fingers twitching to seize it._

"_It takes pressures and forces beyond your human imagination to forge a diamond, having passed through those trials the stone become exceptionally hard. It endures what would destroy others utterly but diamond has four perfect lines of cleavage. These are not 'flaws' they are merely as much part of the innate nature of the stone as is its hardness." He rolled it up between his finger tips "Because they are hard they lack elasticity. Hit them just right and"_

_The Queen made a squeal of protest as the diamond shattered. He let the bits drop back into his palm. _

"_You have a decision to make" he let the bits trickle through his fingers into his other hand. "He can tame Ireland but it will utterly destroy him to do so." His eyes pointedly studied the blood on the wall "You CAN __**NOT**__ put him in position of having to wage total war and expect him to emerge anything resembling sane. One massacre and he was already beginning to crack. The question is Elizabeth Regina Gloriana, what price do you put on the life of a man who has done more to preserve your life and your throne than any other dozen combined? _

"_Ellyllon" she protested while watching the diamond dust trickle from hand to hand._

"_Semantics" he retorted "he is a mortal child. More powerful than most but still, in the end, mortal. And all his pretensions to the contrary, as libel as any to weariness, fatigue, and wounds."_

"_And what would be the proper course for him?"_

"_Get him out of Europe, as soon as you can. Send him out to sea. I know that he doesn't appear to be but he is a child in the reckoning of his race and he trying to do too much far too soon. Give him room to breath or the pressure will eventually destroy him even without Ireland."_

"_Surely if matters were so dire he would remove himself."_

"_He is a CHILD and an exceptionally proud one. He has great knowledge but lacks the wisdom that only comes with maturity. He is sorely wanting in basic good sense. His pride will not allow him to lie down in the yoke and refuse to pull. If you care in the least you will have to do it for him and you will have to be clever enough that he does not realize that he is being given a reprieve. Otherwise" He blew the diamond dust away. It sparkled on the air and vanished as did the Lord of Aratta himself leaving a very thoughtful Queen behind._

"He does a piss poor job of taking care of himself" the Lord of Aratta said as the vision faded "Tread softly or you will trample what is left of him under foot. Now rest."

Jack shook me awake later with an "I'm beginning to grow a bit annoyed with interloping know-it-alls making free with me personal physical being."

A glance out the window showed the sun in exactly the same not quite mid morning position it had been in when the Lord of Aratta paid a visit but several pages had been flipped on the journal. I woke Elizabeth with a kiss while Jack roused the others.

I picked up the journal curious to see what the Lord of Aratta thought we should be reading.

_Dear….W…_

I frowned and glanced up at Jack. The writing was odd, halting, as if he couldn't remember the words and had to fight for every letter.

_My….so….long. I…they…they…not sure…how much longer. Losing things, losing time, losing ME… losssst… nothing…left…but….the…dark…dark…and…dark…and…dark. Just, just, just….thoug…wanted to say goodby… Never had faith…but…if….you all….are….watching….please….just a sea breeze….with enough…of me….left…to know….what…it…is….. _

I flinched as something fluttered, not in the cabin but in the journal, fluttered again and then stuck, icy agony…nothing…but…darkness….

11


	33. Pearl of Great Price

**Author's Notes: A huge thank you to all my reviewers! I know I said Thanksgiving for an update but due to length I decided to split the chapter in half so you're getting this a little early and the second half at a later date.**

**jaquelinelittlebird: **Thanks for the read and review! Mallory believes that there are no gods because he sees no evidence of them (a position I share but that doesn't necessarily make us right). The Lord of Aratta/Dark Lady believes that it is a god which doesn't necessarily make it one. It is quite powerful, incredibly ancient, and more than a little arrogant. We have at least one more scene with it in Candles in the Window and then all interaction between it and Mallory is confined to three chapters of Q Me? which is were most of Ari-El's story resides.

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 19: Lighthouses part a: A Pearl of Great Price**

"Will" I blinked up into my father's face as I raised a hand to my burning cheek.

"Sorry, 'bout thet but I couldn't rouse any o'ye."

I shivered that icy, cold darkness had just swallowed me whole leaving absolute nothingness, no thought, no desire, no will. Even now my heart felt numb. Jack was the first to shake himself out of it and he made a bee line for the rum.

"Bill would ye be so kind as te have Gibbs brew up some tea and have him deliver it in say five minutes?"

My father gave him an odd look but nodded and left. "Now whelp that we have someone coming to check on us as it were would ye be so kind as te continue?"

I gulped and Elizabeth sidled closer "Couldn't we warm up a little first?"

"Ye're more than welcome to go warm up in the galley or on the deck but time doesn't wait for mere mortals" Jack returned firmly but not unkindly.

The Governor rose "Come Elizabeth, that way if something untoward occurs there will be others who know to check."

Elizabeth shook her head "I'll stay."

The Governor was torn he very clearly wanted well away from the journal but sat with a sigh unwilling to abandon his daughter.

"Where ye perhaps waiting for a written invitation te begin?"

Actually I'd been gathering my intestinal fortitude. I swallowed and doing my level best NOT to get sucked in this time a looked back down seeking an end to the darkness. There was no actual writing, just a splotch of blood but as I touched it I was cautiously 'with' Mallory in the dark.

Then suddenly voices, but there was no response of any kind from Mallory, no elation that he might be set free, no fear of what new horror might await him, no preparing to spring upon his captors and make a daring escape, not even an attempt to listen to what they were saying, there was simply nothing, at all. Movement followed the voices as the carchar was lifted. There wasn't much room to shift in the carchar but Mallory made no effort to brace himself, nor did he shield his eyes from the sudden wash of light as the carchar was opened.

"Check him" someone ordered from above and a set of hands tried to gently tip his head up out of its fixed angle.

"We don't have all day" the voice sneered and a rougher set of hands wrenched long unused muscles into positions they hadn't been able to assume in over three-quarters of a century. Before his head flopped back down (striking the edge of carchar with a sharp thud) I had clearly seen Argellion through Mallory's empty eyes. _**I**_ had recognized him but Mallory hadn't. Hands reached into the carchar and gathered up the scattered papers before Argellion said in a strangled voice,

"The difaenaid have done their work, he's gone."

"Then get him out of there and have someone clean him up. The King's been waiting for this for far too long." Rough hands yanked him upright by his hair. "Wait, let me see the brat."

The voice finally walked into Mallory's line of sight. Given the way family resemblance seemed to pass through Ellyllon Blood lines I had no doubt that I was looking at Neidr's father the much despised Unben Udd of Lofrudd.

"My, my, my how the mighty have fallen. What nothing witty to say? No deft insults? No daring deeds? No trifling rebellions?" The older Ellyllon chucked darkly "I like you so much better this way but I doubt you would. It's amazing how drab and ugly a peacock is when you've pluck all those lovely feathers, one by one. The only heads you are ever going to turn now are the ones that can't bear to gaze upon the horror you have become." He yanked one of Mallory's ears forward so hard that his whole head slewed leaving him staring at a blank tunnel wall. "The one thing that would make this perfect was if you still had just enough wits about you to understand what was done to you. Pity it isn't a perfect world."

"The ceremony is at noon, milord" a new voice that must belong to the rough hands interrupted "and what little is left of him stinks."

"You're quite right, I have decades to gloat. Get him ready. Not you my lord Argellion, there is no need for someone as highborn as you to scrub the remains." Unben shook his head a flicker of something that wasn't gloating glee ghosted through his slit eyes "Foolish of you to become attached to him. You had to know he never had any hope."

The rest of the conversation was lost as Mallory was carried at arm's length by the hair up through the tunnels and into a strange shadowless twilight like nothing I had ever seen and then into an ornate bathroom. He was unceremoniously dropped like so many filthy rags onto the warm tile floor. Still nothing from Mallory. This was taking playing possum to ridiculous lengths. I let my finger drop a sliver of an inch down the blood blot hoping to bypass the bath and get onto something useful. I paused at Unben's return.

"That will do, it isn't as if he's ever going to care again if he's clean or drowning in slops."

There was a fan fare and Auberon swept in greedy, rapacious eyes fixed on Mallory. I noticed Jack leaning forward and felt a stab of sympathy. I'd wondered all my life about my father but everyone seemed unanimous that he was a good man. All Jack had ever had was questions until Mallory had finally confessed to the truth a few nights ago and God, what a family Jack had gained with his father by reputation the worst of a less than stellar lot.

God, the faces were identical, I focused on the mad silver eyes and grass green hair not wanting to think of Auberon every time I looked at Jack. Hungry, so hungry, bottomlessly ravenous, but not for food. He came at Mallory like a like a starved dog seeing fresh meat. Burning liquid silver seemed to thrust itself into mind, body, and soul, invading every cranny of my being and then solidifying like an unbreakable spider web around and through me. I flung the journal away, it smacked into the opposite wall and bounced onto the floor with the white Draig's red eyes twinkling mockingly at me from the cover. I dove for one of the windows, frantically scrabbling at the latch which abruptly seemed to open itself as I swallowed my gorge. Once it was open I heaved until there was nothing in my stomach not even bile. I wiped my mouth and laid my head on the casement. I wanted a bath inside and out but I wasn't certain I would ever feel clean again. I swallowed hard. Mallory wasn't playing possum. Not even he could have let that pass. Besides there had been several mirrors in the room and I'd caught sight of what was left of him in one. Barbossa and his not so merry men had looked ten times more alive than that withered scrap of an Ellyllon. At least their eyes had been alive, their bones animated, Mallory's were utterly dead. I swallowed and looked at the journal. I needed to pick it back up and continue. I couldn't do it. I stared at it then at Elizabeth who had just slumped down next to me after throwing up herself. She nuzzled against me and I wrapped an arm around her holding her close as much for her comfort as my own. Commodore Norrington was positively grey and the Governor had apparently fled. Gibbs and my father were both grim. Jack alone seemed to have maintained some of his aplomb. He looked at me. I couldn't do it. Call me a coward but I couldn't. He rose and picked up the journal, slender fingers caressing its spine.

"Why don't the lot o ye go and have a spot o tea with a dash o' rum and I'll finish this up on me onesies."

Commodore Norrington drew himself up straight again, hands clasped neatly behind his back, eyes straight ahead. "I have every intention of seeing this through to the bitter end Captain Sparrow."

"I AM not leaving" Elizabeth snapped. If Mallory hadn't stated that she didn't have a drop of Old Blood in her I would swear it was a Draig talking. Sometimes she was as bad as Mallory but her hands were shaking as she took a cup of tea from Gibb's tray.

I braced myself one arm wrapped tightly around Elizabeth as Jack flipped the journal back open….

I shivered as that web wrapped itself around Mallory. He was nothing but a puppet on a string as Auberon toyed with him.

"All power at your fingertips" Unben purred into Auberon's ear.

"You promised it to me decades ago" Auberon retorted face twisting.

"You shouldn't let her get away with that" Unben replied nodding toward a little pixie or fairy or something right on the edge of Mallory's fixed straight forward stare. The silver mesh tightened as her little eyes widened in innocent shock and then she shrieked as she went up in flames. Auberon was breathing hard mad eyes glazed in ecstasy.

"Such a good boy" he said stroking Mallory's head "Now that you've finally decided to be a good boy we are going to have so much _**fun**_ together, son. Good boy, my good, good, obedient boy" The look he leveled on Mallory was the scariest thing I'd seen through all the blood and horror in the journal.

"But not yet" Unben said "we have to finish the ceremony first."

Auberon looked ready to cry. "Don't worry. He isn't ever going to go anywhere again. You'll have plenty of time to play after the ceremony. Duty first."

Auberon sighed, pouting, then his eyes hardened becoming almost sane and his words were etched into my brain "You will obey all orders, you will say only what you have been told to say, and do only what you have been told to do. Nod. Raise your arm. Let it drop. Give him a command."

Unben grinned and pointed to a scorch mark on the floor "Lick it clean." Our entire view shrank to the tile floor "I told you he would be utterly obedient. You might want to restrict who can give him orders after the ceremony."

"Quite right" Auberon knelt down, lifted Mallory's head, and brushed a kiss across his lips "It will be so much better now that you're finally good. Well, for a little while. I am sorry about what I will have to do to you later."

I choked on that one – he'd thought of something WORSE?!

Auberon left to more fanfare.

"Get up" Unben ordered and stared at Mallory "What a waste. To think that my son thought enough of you to betray ME for your sake. To prefer death over betraying you. You. Were. NOT. Worth. It." he spat. "Finish getting him ready" he snarled as he swept from the room.

"But milord" someone meekly whispered at his retreating back "we have nothing to dress him in."

"I believe I can rectify that" Argellion said stepping out of the shadows the silver outfit draped over his arm. Little flitty things fluttered around him taking up the clothes and with their piping voices ordering Mallory to move this or step into that. One particular little sprite clasped his nose, sniffling "You were so worth it. I know you can't hear me but you were worth it. You're still worth it. You are our King no matter who wears the crown and you find a way back to us. Do you hear me?! **YOU** COME **BACK **to us."

When they were finished Argellion stepped forward the scattered papers from the carchar now neatly bound in the journal which he tucked in next to Mallory's heart. He lifted Mallory's head eyes boring in as he slipped through the silver web but this touch was soft, gentle, tender even though Mallory couldn't feel it. "**MY**, **Prince the **people **of Avalon** need you" he said then breaking contact commanded "Sit" then to someone out of sight "Carry him"

As Mallory stared dumbly at his boots for the first time since the icy darkness something stirred, sluggish, tentative, unfocused but no longer utterly empty.

When ordered to rise the body did but whatever had awakened ignored the distant drone of the outside world.

_Uoydeennolavaofelpoepethecnirpym?_

_U O Y D E E N N O L A V A F O E L P O E P E H T E C N I R P Y M?? It was more like the repetitious babble of a baby than a thought as such._

_MMMM…_

_Y, I, I, I, I, Je, Ich, Yo, then something bubbled up 'the nominative singular pronoun, used by a speaker in referring to himself'._

_Puzzled confusion. I?? Prince?? I Prince? Prince I? I'm the Prince? Of Avalon? More confusion. I'm the Prince of Avalon? _

_Then a flood tide of images and memories that nearly blew the little flicker out but it dug in fighting the tide, trying absorb it all. Eyes narrowed. Jane's God and all the Draigs but it hurts. So bright, so loud. I'm out? Am I really? I'm Out!? I'M OUT!! I wanted to shout for joy. I hurt more than I ever had in my life but I didn't care I was out of the damn carchar but I did my utmost to give no sign that I was aware because the instant I did…. _

_Not a sound, not a sign no matter how much I wanted to slink off with my tail twixt my legs to lick my wounds. I was the Prince of Avalon and Princes don't have that luxury not matter how much I wanted it. Besides the cursed gorchymyn held me pinioned dumb and motionless but ….darkness around the edges of my vision creeping back in to drag me back under. No! Draigs but I wanted to throw myself against the gorchymyn, to rail and growl but I, I was afraid. I couldn't fight these odds, not as weak as I was and so I sat still in my 'throne', what a sick and twisted joke, waiting for the opportune moment and hoping when it came that I would have gathered enough of my courage to seize it. So loud, so bright, it hurts, draigs I hurt. Not a sound, not a sign, I tried to rein even my emotions lest my Sire notice through the gorchymyn. It couldn't be, it couldn't be, but it was! The scent of the Sea on the breeze, a whisper in my ear. _

'_Invoke me and I will rescue you'_

_Please, please do, I would beg if I could my pride in shambles and wanting only to be away from this wretched place. I was supposed to save Avalon but at the moment I couldn't even fathom how to save myself. It hurts, so bright, so loud. Dear, faithful Sea, but trapped in the gorychymyn how was I to open a passage? Words. I'd been told words to say but they weren't the right ones. I could change the order. But, but then He would know. So loud, so bright, the world was so dazzling it was difficult to think. Had it always been so loud? Had so many forms and textures? He would know and Draigs how much more could I endure? As much as I must I told myself grimly but I didn't believe it. So, thinking over the words I was allowed to say I tried to find something that would work. Stop stalling I hissed at myself this is your only blood chance. But it's so bright and loud. And it hurts. If Sea didn't come He would, He would, I didn't even want to imagine. I had eighty years of experience of what my Sire did to those who crossed him. Eighty years of sheer not even Satan himself could possibly dream up this shite experience. Perhaps if I was very very quiet He wouldn't notice. What the bloody blazes was wrong with me? I had a chance to escape, to regroup, and once I had a power base established to wreck bloody vengeance on that son of a bitch and I was too frightened to even try? But it would take Sea long minutes to get here. Minutes in which He could do anything He pleased to me. I quailed but the Draig stirred and with it my rage. Damn him, damn them both. Freedom or death. Actually neither was likely but what the hell._

"_Let the King of the rivers see me" Was that actually enough to work? My Sire froze, in the front rank of the crowd Argellion winked at me, and Unben turned jaw dropping in absolute flabbergasted shock. If the gorychymyn would have permitted it I would have given him a cheeky grin, made a witty comment, and a thought up a deft insult about my trifling rebellion. Honestly what I really wanted was to slide Risanca up under his ribs after slowly flaying him alive. Ah, well, one should always have something to look forward to, anticipation is the best seasoning and hope springs eternal. My pleasant ruminations about how enjoyable it would be to peel his face off with a spoon were banished by the sight of my Sire's face. He looked a little disappointed and absolutely murderous. He snapped an order to one of the temporal mages and suddenly we were in our own little pocket of slowed time. Not good, not good, so very n…..darkness…light. When had He gotten in front of me? _

"_And you were being such a good boy" he sighed "as much as I've entirely enjoyed tormenting you I was hoping you were ready for something new." Held captive by the gorychymyn I could neither protest nor elude his hand but he merely petted my hair. Touched. My mind reeled and I fought for balance within myself. It was a lightening bolt, an anchor, a bridge. While I had some vague notion of what had transpired between the carchar and now that knowledge came from the journal next to my heart not from my own memories. There was nothing that was __**mine**__ between my last note to Will and this courtyard and in over three quarters of a century no one had touched or spoken to me. Oh the nasty things my ever so loving father had sent to visit had shredded my soul but they hadn't made physical contact and they certainly hadn't chatted. Within the bounds of the gorychymyn I trembled. "I confess Unben is becoming rather tiresome. If you can honestly and truly promise that you are finally willing to be a good boy you can sit at my left hand, you can have a bed with a pillow and clean sheets. You would like that wouldn't you?"_

_The gorychymyn limited me to saying what I was told to say and do which precluded me from actually answering. Those deranged silver eyes darkened and the hand that was petting me paused, fingers tightening in my hair. Then He realized the problem "You will answers questions and you will tell me only the absolute unvarnished truth. Now, you would like that wouldn't you?"_

_Draigs, draigs, this was the oldest trick in the torturer's book. You drug someone face down through hell and then you offered the simplest of creature comforts, what should be common courtesy became the most exquisite of gifts. I knew this game, I'd USED it myself and yet I answered "Yes". I should be fighting the gorychymyn. I didn't have a chance against it, even at my best I'd never succeeded but it was the principle of the thing. Complacency was dangerous, it was the road to compliance and defeat but He was __**looking**__ at me. No one had __**looked**__ at me in ever so long. I hadn't seen or been seen in an eternity. It was divine. Fool I hissed at myself He __**did**__ this to you. It was so bright, the light was so dazzling, there were __**scents**__ in the air, __**fresh**__ air. I could open my eyes and see something other than my own crabbed handwriting. There were no words for the emotions tumbling through me and I had few doubts that if the gorychymyn had not held me that I would have been able to stop myself from collapsing in a quivering wreck at his feet. And to be __**looked**__ at and __**spoken**__ to was nearly enough to unman me. If I didn't DO something I was going to let him win but I couldn't seem to summon the will to try._

_He smiled at me "You are ready to be a good boy aren't you?"_

_I wanted to shriek no but the gorychymyn precluded any answer but the absolute truth and to my eternal shame it was not an instantaneous, resounding no. But at least it wasn't yes either. What had happened to that innocent sprite less than hour ago proved that He was no different than He had been when I had been locked away. And the look on His face. If there was God, of any kind, out there I was willing to swear unflagging allegiance __**right now**__ to NEVER see that look in His eyes. I knew, I knew exactly what an answer of yes would mean. It would mean complete, willing, life long submission to His will. It would me letting Him use my body and power as if it were His own without any attempt to soften the blows or lessen the horrors He would use me to wreck on the people of Avalon. I could hear Henry saying that right and wrong are carved on the heart (clearly my Sire's had been missed) I could hear Henri talking about a monarch's responsibilities to his people, and I could remember promising myself that if I ever got out of that damn box that __**this**__ time I would be someone that they and Milady Latimer could be proud of. I…darkness….NO!...light. What had He done? But He looked puzzled in the one flickering glimpse I had of His silver eyes before darkness…._

The King frowned in confusion then barked "Ariel." No response. Mallory was as empty as he had been earlier. "That's interesting" the King observed in a far too Jack like lilt "That's very interesting indeed."

_Uoydeennolavaofelpoepethecnirpym?_

_U O Y D E E N N O L A V A F O E L P O E P E H T E C N I R P Y M?? Again the infant like babble._

_MMMM…_

_Y, I, I, I, I, Je, Ich, Yo, then something bubbled up 'the nominative singular pronoun, used by a speaker in referring to himself'._

_Puzzled confusion. I?? Prince?? I Prince? Prince I? I'm the Prince? Of Avalon? More confusion. I'm the Prince of Avalon? _

_Light. A rush of imagery. What the bleeding hell? I blinked several times at my Sire who was giving me a look I wasn't quite certain how to interpret but experience argued didn't bode well._

"_Ariel?"_

_It wasn't a question so I couldn't answer. "Do you know who you are?"_

"_I'm the Prince of Avalon."_

_A frown but not a murderous one. It occurred to me that this was the longest nonviolent exchange I had ever had with my Sire. I felt lightheaded and addled, my thoughts kept wanting to wander off in all directions and I was torn between closing my eyes so I could return to comfortable darkness and wanting to drink in every scrap of sensation I could._

"_But what is your __name__?"_

"_You never gave me one" was my instant response._

_An arch of the brow. Curiosity, that was the expression. I'd never seen my Sire curious before. "True enough. Do you remember my question?"_

"_Which one?" I said trying to stall. The longer I could keep him distracted the better the chances Sea could rescue me and given the crawl of time outside our bubble….dark…no, I fixed my eyes on His, fighting, my breath coming faster, fraying, slipping, sliding, fading, resurfacing._

_He'd merely watched through the whole thing. It had been mere seconds but I felt like I'd run a marathon. "Are you ready to be a good boy?"_

_And again I failed to snap a no. I could tell myself that I was stalling, that the gorychymyn didn't require an immediate answer but the truth was if I had __**had**__ an immediate answer I would have had to fight the gorchymyn to keep from giving it. I should force a no, except calling for Sea seemed to be the sum total of what little defiance I could drum up. What was __**wrong**__ with me? I never refused a fight. The hand that had been petting me was laid against my cheek, the thumb tracing lazy circles that were like jolts of pleasure through my whole system. A small sigh slipped out before I could stop it. _

"_If you are very, very good and make me happy I might even reward you. Do you want to know what I would give you?"_

_A "Yes" darted out before I could even think to restrain it. I was seriously off my game and sloppy all round today. But it, it was so overwhelming, I needed to be able to think and much as I hated to do it I closed my eyes, that didn't stop all the sounds, and the smells, and God, Draigs, that TOUCH was like an inferno on my cheek but…_

"_I'll give you a little of your enaid back so that you'll stop falling apart. Oh, you hadn't figured it out" He tsked "You're usually smarter than that. Too smart for your own good really. The center can not hold, there isn't enough of you left. It's rather fascinating to watch. I've done this many times before and no one even half as tattered has ever come back together before. I suppose I should be proud of you. I might even be proud of you if you can be a good boy. __**Now**__ answer my question are you ready to behave?"_

_The gorychymyn twisted forcing an answer this time but I didn't bother to fight. What was the point? The "I don't know" that in a different time and place I would have gladly carved my tongue out rather than voice tumbled without resistance from my lips. My Sire leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. As his hand left me I made a small, eternally mortifying, sound of protest. _

"_That's my good boy" He said looking pleased "it has been a very difficult day for you so as a reward for that I'm going to give you a little while to puzzle it all out. It can't be easy to think with your enaid sparking and fraying like that. Make me proud" He said laying a kiss on my forehead "and be a good boy. After all you don't really want me to discipline you any more do you?" _

_The "no" I gave in response was a much whimper as word. Quite please with Himself my Sire turned and as time resumed its proper pace I wanted to slink back to that damn box just to hide my shame. I was __**better**__ than this. I knew what He was doing. Having been through it a few times I noticed the signs this time and I tried to hold myself together but it all slipped through my fingers…darkness…._

Mallory was empty again, Jack skipped down to his return.

Light. A rush of imagery. _I must have lacked the strength to stand because I was being held between two rather burly Ellyllon while a third settled Risanca and a blade I had never seen before but even sheathed I did not like round my, Draigs, there was nothing left of me, waist. If Sea was coming She should have been here by now. Either my invitation hadn't been enough or, or, faithful Sea had finally abandoned me. Perhaps the breeze had only been the fancy of my shattered enaid. Either way that meant I was on my own. I felt the last of my hope slipping through my fingers. I couldn't win. What is the point of fighting when you can't win? _

_There was a panicked shout and the crowd scattered. I would have turned to look but the gorychymyn wouldn't let me. Suddenly She was all around me, rolling me in Her warm, salty, wet embrace. I wanted to crow, to scream, to shout, to do bloody hand springs but the thrice blasted darkness took me…_

_There was a light, a light and a song, faint so faint, so far, far away, _

_**So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,**_

_**May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn**_

_**To lead me through death, darkness, and storm.**_

_**To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,**_

_**Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore**_

_It….drew….it….called….it…I?...I want?...I wanted the light and the song but I was…lost? Lost in the dark. Lonely? Yes, lonely…sad…lost. I wanted the light. I wanted the light. I would __**have**__ the light. Didn't the light know who I was? Who was I? I was the Prince, the Prince of Avalon._

_Peregrine. I was aboard the Peregrine. Free of Avalon. Free! I tried to move and realized just how much of a prisoner I still was. Except that because He had wanted the servants to dress me he hadn't put any restrictions on who could command me or question me. All 'Grin needed to do was to ask the right question and we'd work a way around this blasted gorchymyn. _

_(Rhys, Rhys why won't you answer me?) _

_Lancing pain worse than when my Sire had ordered Mannwan to rip my eyes from my head to give to Unben. How the blazes had I come so close to yielding to that monster? _

_(Rhys?)_

"_Gorchymyn" I choked trying to hide how much it hurt "will only allow me to answer questions, do what I am told and say what I am told." Peregrine was only familiar with gorchymyn in the vaguest of abstracts but he was even quicker witted than I and I could only hope that he would make the leap of logic that would at least partially free me._

_(You may speak freely without any impediment say whatever you will)_

_I had to smile through the throbbing "You are a bloody brilliant boat"_

_(Ship!) _

_I lay on the deck for a second letting the side effects of that simple exchange fade before whispering "Move however you will. You are under no compulsion to obey the commands of anyone but yourself" it wasn't commonly known but you could overlay gorchymyns and you could gorchymyn yourself I'd done it often enough to modify His that I had every confidence that I could do it now. Blinding, driving agony, I back came to myself curled around the mast, breath wheezing in ragged gasps. I struggled upright leaning against the mast instead of hugging it letting the light and the song wrap around me it hurt like hell but I didn't care._

_(Rhys?)_

_(I'm fine.) Sea had flowed across the deck to coil against me. I pillowed my head against her burrowing as far in as I could and still breathe and She held me as the tremors I knew that the gorchymyn alone had been holding at bay took me. I didn't bother to fight them._

_(Rhys?) Peregrine sounded frantic. _

_I nearly bit my tongue off stammering out "J-j-ust t-t-talk to me." Please, please, please prove I'm not alone anymore, that this isn't just a dream. The Winds apparently considered this an invitation to howl at hurricane force. The pain was exquisite. Sometimes it's the only way you know that you're back among the living. I stayed awake as long as I could and begged Sea over and over not to leave me when I could hold my eyes open no longer._

_I woke at first light and watched the sunrise from the cradle of Sea's embrace. Part of me wanted to shrink away frightened of that limitless horizon after some many years of confinement. You can't have it, I snarled at my absent Sire, I have done all the cowering I ever will for you. A more sarcastic part of me noted that it was interesting that I'd found my courage and my will now that there was a day's swift sail between us. I shook it off. I had the horizon back and hell be damned if I wasn't going to ENJOY it. _

_(Rhys?) Peregrine began but I shushed him. I patted the mast but for the moment I just wanted the sunrise…._

_I could sense the light but I couldn't find it. Lost again. I wanted Peregrine, Wind and Sea. They were with the light. I'd begged them not to leave me but here I was again lost in the dark. Not fair, they hadn't left me, I'd left them. I wasn't certain if it was a good sign or a bad one that I'd reached the point were I was actually aware in the dark instead of just babbling idiocy though I was beginning to think I'd done a better job of finding my way back by instinct than by design._

'Why does he just sit there staring into space?' Sea demanded of Peregrine who whispered 'I don't know'.

'What did they do to him?'

'I don't know any more than you do. We just have to wait and hope he comes back to us.'

_I listened for the song but no matter how hard I strained could hear nothing…but…there… off in the distance to the south west, I paused how the hell could the infinite black of my shattered enaid have directionality and if it did how would I know? Too philosophical by half. There was some sort of sound and the suggestion of light. I struggled to reach it though it became apparent that this wasn't the light shed by the journal or the spell I'd set in place just before Jane's death so what was casting it? It felt familiar. I had sensed it in the carchar too and dismissed it as another sign that the continual attacks by the difaenaid were driving me slowly mad. I could feel myself coming even further apart. Damn it NO! but my awareness continued to fray… I lunged for the brighter patch and just before I shivered to nothing I felt a flutter like tiny wings…sparrow?_

The sun marched across the sky as the Winds blasted all manner of things at the still figure on the deck but he did not acknowledge them and one by one they crept away until the buff colored sails lay nearly flat.

_This time the transition between the mindless dark and light was disconcertingly instantaneous. Too bright, too hot, too loud, too much, too open, boundless, my world was only a little box not this great wide endless space. __**He**__ was outside the box and He would hurt me. I hadn't been good. No good at all, Henri said so. I needed to get back to the box. I tried to stand but my legs didn't seem to want to support my weight. I sank back down to the boards and curled up with my forehead against my knees, hands over my ears, trying not to whimper as I shook. Why was I falling apart now? _

_(Rhys?) Draigs that hurt._

"_I'll be good" I murmured to the deck planks "I swear I'll be good." I cringed as something brushed against me._

_(Where were you trying to go?) Sea's voice was a shriek. Too much, too much, too much._

"_Cabin" I whispered. She lifted me. I should make Her put me down, if I couldn't walk, I should crawl, if I couldn't crawl, I should squirm but by no means should I be content to be carried without complaint. I sighed resting my head against Her. I clung to Her when She tried to settle me on the bed._

"_Don't leave me, please don't leave me" I begged. I hung onto her like a bloody terrified child through sunset and long into the night before I finally gathered enough of what remained of my pride to lay back against the pillows. This clean bed came with a lot less strings than the one in Avalon and I tried to relax. I was free. I was free and I should be planning…something not just lying here. I was better than this. The people of Avalon were counting on me. I shifted a little and the journal Argellion had stuffed into my doublet knocked against my ribs. I gingerly fished it out and looked down into the red eyes of Nimrais. I could only conclude that someone had a very warped sense of humor. I flipped the pages quickly not interested in reading my own scribbling. There Argellion's hand which was nearly but not quite as lovely as my own._

_My dear, dear Prince, _

_If you are reading this then once more you have outstripped all expectations. I believed when I was summoned down to The Depths that I would find nothing left of you, and indeed it appeared that the difaenaid done their work thoroughly and well. Then I found these pages. You have always had a brilliant knack for instinctually doing precisely what is most needed. You missed but a single link in the chain that would allow these pages to provide a bridge between who you were and what you are. I have done what I can to provide that link but… There is no delicate way to put this, the damage is severe, extensive, and short of convincing the difaenaid to disgorge what they have taken, permanently debilitating. I know you will find this advice difficult to follow but please, my Prince, use extreme caution in all things until you learn your new limits. The fact that you have the remaining wit to even read this is an incredible accomplishment, please, please I beg you do not overdo lest you be forever lost. I have designed this journal to record events even without you ever taking up the quill I have included in case you wish to continue writing as well._

_Your faithful servant,_

_Argellion._

_Translation, I was an invalid and I was going to remain an invalid for the rest of my life. Not only that but I should be IMPRESSED that I wasn't a drooling idiot. I closed the journal in disgust, shoved it back into my doublet, pulled a pillow over my face, and did my best to fall asleep. Somewhere in that place on the edge of sleep there was a flutter of wings and I dreamed of sparrows._

_I watched the sunrise from the shelter of a nest of pillows trying to drum up the enthusiasm to actually attempt to get out of bed but what was the point? You're HANDING Him the bloody victory what was left of the Draig in me countered but it was as faded as I was. Just a persistent ghost._

_(Rhys you should eat something) Peregrine admonished._

"_I'm not hungry" besides what was the point? I looked up at the ceiling of m…darkness…I tumbled in the void wondering if it was bottomless when that flutter from before caught my attention. Curious as to what it was I ventured closer. Not what, who, him. Blood calls to Blood. He must be particularly powerful Rigion and descended from one of the Sperlings. I hung in the darkness but with the faintest of awareness of myself, like being caught between waking and dreams. He was alone, hungry, and surprisingly young, more than that I could not tell. I turned close enough the surface that I could hear the song. How Draco had hated it but now it and the Peregrine's mast provided a steady beacon guiding me home. A lighthouse steady and true. If I wanted to go. I hadn't bothered to try since the last time. What was the point? But...whoever he was I was reasonably certain that he needed help. I might not be able to storm the gates of Avalon, I might be an invalid, but that didn't necessarily mean I was useless. Gathering myself I surged back to the surface._

_The sun was setting. "How long?" I asked. I felt like seven miles of bad road. I felt immensely better than I had and I suspected I had Sea to thank for that. _

_(How long have you been gone?)_

"_How long since you rescued me? And please forgive me I've been unpardonably rude not to thank you profusely ere now."_

_(Five days) Peregrine responded soberly (And forgiven, you haven't precisely been yourself)._

_No, no I hadn't. I brushed away the covers and tried to emerge from my nest of pillows. I made a full two shuffling steps before Sea had to catch me. "Please, let me try." She shadowed me to the window casement where I rested, breathless and dizzy from a bare half dozen steps. I stayed there for a few minutes and then shambled back to the bed. I made four more laps before the spots dancing before my eyes convinced me to settle back into exhausted sleep where I again dreamed of sparrows. _

The sun rose, set, and rose again but Mallory's eyes remained dead and empty and the pleas of Peregrine and Sea fell on deaf ears.

_This was becoming decidedly tiresome. I cast about in the darkness again. No song, no light, and no 'sparrow' to point the way out of here. My body might be out of the carchar but I was far from free of the endless dark. There! The Blood and near the Blood the Song and…light._

_The world was still entirely too wide, bright, and loud but we were docked and the Blood was a roar in my veins. Could a Riggion BE this potent? Interesting that Peregrine had just __**happened **__to have come straight here. Wherever here was. The Caribbean by the water. Tortuga? I didn't recall it having a colony back when I'd been sailing these waters before but I hadn't been in the Caribbean in the better part of a century. I drank in the hustle and bustle for a few minutes leaning against the glass inexplicably nervous about rejoining the humanity and yet longing to get lost in the jostling masses. I sighed what would happen to my Shadows if I got lost in the dark out there? I glanced at myself in one of the many mirrors. I looked positively ghastly. There would be no passing briefly for dynol. So what now that I was free I was just going to hide in my cabin? I crafted a plain Shadow, no one any one would particularly remark on but who wasn't completely bland either. Good enough for a short stroll on the docks. Providing I could even leave Peregrine without pitching over on my nose._

_(Rhys? Rhys what are you doing?) Peregrine inquired._

"_Going for a walk" I responded as I took the stairs up to the deck one at a time since my knees were stiff as boards._

_(Around the deck?)_

"_Around the town."_

_(Rhys) Peregrine clearly wanted to say 'you can't' but knowing me was trying to think of something that wouldn't send me instantly and defiantly over the rail. I honestly wasn't feeling all that defiant or like I could actually uphold my end of an argument. Fortunately Peregrine was so busy trying to think of something non-challenging he wasn't challenging me._

_(Rhys I would really rather you didn't)_

"_And why not?"_

_You could almost taste the 'because you're shambling wreckage' in the air but he didn't actually say it. Ah, I'd missed fighting with my boat._

_(Because I've missed you horribly for over eighty years and we really haven't had a chance to catch up)_

_Oh, that was unfair. I paused "'Grine, I was buried alive for seventy-seven of those years. I, I need to be around people, just for a little while." Actually I was scared half witless of stepping out into the crowd but I was also more curious than any cat about this boy whose Blood sang like both a Penthalion and a Sperling and who had me dreaming of sparrows. _

_My boat wanted to scold me up one side and down the other (Why don't you wait just a few days?) He refrained from noting that just crossing the deck had me out of breath. (Please)._

_That brush on the edge of the dark had shown a child as lonely in the crowd as I was in the carchar. I swung a leg over the rail feeling like an arse when 'Grine repeated that please. I just wanted to be certain he was alright and to see the lay of the ground so I could decide what if anything I should be doing about the boy. I had thought I felt poorly until I reached the end of the dock. The first step onto solid ground was enough to set my head spinning I staggered to a crate and sat heavily head between my knees. Maybe I should go back. I reached out to Sea. Please, lend me a little strength. I knew there was a limit to how far I could go from the water if I was leaning on Sea but otherwise I wasn't going anywhere but back to Peregrine. With renewed vigor I walked (well shambled I was still too stiff and out of practice to call it walking) up from the docks and into the town proper. There a swirl of vivid, burning red, brown hair that was in DIRE need of a good combing, dressed in rags that I wouldn't use to clean the head was a boy of about seven years who was unquestionably My. Sire's, Son. I had to sit down stunned beyond thought – I had a brother. Who was getting away from me. I heaved back to my feet there was absolutely no question of me staying aloof now, besides the boy, MY __**BROTHER**__, was very clearly ill kept and someone was going to be paying for that. Preferably with their life._

_I had a brother. I could __**NOT**__ seem to wrap my mind around it. I also couldn't seem to keep up, quick little bugger. Normally I would roundly approve but today it was a bit of a trial. A brother who was stealing a loaf of bread. Kids stealing for amusement didn't clutch their prizes like that, well fed but poor kids stole what they couldn't afford. Neither of those went for a bit of bread. __**MY BROTHER**__ was running around this cesspit excuse for a town dressed in rags stealing food and Peregrine had come STRAIGHT here from Avalon. My boat had better have a DAMN good explanation. Because the temper that I hadn't seen hide nor hair of since I got out of that damn box was beginning to boil. Oh hell, with a flicker of power I stopped the merchant's gun from firing. What kind of bastard shoots a kid in the back for stealing bread? Risanca was under his ribs before he ever knew I was there. The dead kind. _

_Nimrais started to snarl (It's about time you….) that was a first the white Draig rendered speechless. Well there had to be some advantage to the hell I'd been through. The Wind reported that my quarry had rounded the corner to devour his prize. I flicked the merchant off my knife and reflected that I was not making a very good start on that promise to myself that I was going to turn over a new leaf as a kinder, gentler soul. Couldn't seem to feel sorry about it in this case. Stepping over what was left of the shop keeper and setting a Shadow that was timed to disperse after I was well away I lurched after my little brother wondering what he was like and noting that Shadow at least seemed to come as easily as it always had. According to the records in Avalon I had had no shortage of siblings since I was in point of fact my Sire's seventh son and twelfth child I merely was the first to survive. Until now. Having had to watch my Sire's contempt for the dynol I couldn't even conceive of him touching a dynol for any purpose but to bind, torture, and kill and yet here was unequivocal proof that my Sire was capable of some sort of not immediately lethal contact with a dynol. As I rounded the corner he darted across the street straight into the path of four galloping horses. A quickly cast Shadow and a bang from Wind sent them shying just long enough for him to gain the safety of the far side of the pathetic excuse for a street. He turned and I got my first look at his face. Gwyla's large chocolate orbs had been set in a face that was an exact youthful copy of our mutual Sire's but that expression of pure daring bravado would have never have graced either. Our Sire was a dyed in the wool, 24-karot, 200 proof, pure coward which was the root of all of His problems both as an Ellyllon and a king. The boy turned and with a swagger that shouted 'yes, I'm friendless, hungry, and dressed in rags but the world is still MY oyster and I'm going to find a pearl in it' started up the street. I had to lean against the wall and laugh. Our Sire might have provided the seed for him but that boy was __**MY**__ brother._

_I pushed off the wall to continue my pursuit whilst turning my mind onto the question of how I should go about introducing myself when I felt the darkness creeping up to take me. Not __**NOW**__!! Speaking so quickly even I had trouble following the babble I commanded myself to maintain Shadow, continue following the boy, not allow him to come to harm but not to make contact and fervently hoped that the gorychymyn I had placed on myself would hold as I vanished into darkness. _

_I blinked back into the light looking at the backs of six men closing in on my brother while an ass with a clearly a great deal of cash and very little fashion sense bombastically ordered his five louts to teach my brother a lesson. Oh, but there was going to be a lesson taught here and at the very least the one that had just asked permission to rape my brother was not going to survive. I'd start the whole kinder gentler thing tomorrow. _

"You skipped stealing Captain Morgan's purse!" Elizabeth snapped indignantly.

"Mallory was unavailable, as it were, and while I am always willing te elaborate upon me glorious victories now is not the opportune moment."

Elizabeth sniffed "I hardly think that you are capable of objectivity regarding the matter."

"If I was I'd be five times the worthless scallywag the good Commodore thinks I am. We're wasting time we don't have Lizzy state yer grievance."

"I was the one who seized the journal and I have yet read it."

"Let me get te the end o this sequence and I'll yield it te ye in the interests of expediency. Do we have an accord?"

A terse nod and Jack went back to reading muttering something that sounded like "I knew there would be no living with her."

"_Let him be" I ordered, willing to let the rest live if they were willing to be wise. Looking at the ass I doubted it but I could at least pretend I was contemplating kinder and gentler. _

_The ass bellowed in a voice pitched to carry all the way to Avalon "Do you have any idea who I am, scalawag?"_

_Too loud, too bright, too much for an instant I whited out trembling then the Draig roared. Trembling before __**THIS**__? It was not to be bourn!!_

"_Don't know" but I'll hazard that you're some washed up has been of a privateer captain living on the dregs of you 'glorious reputation' "Don't care" because it isn't going to much matter in a few minutes. I'd given them a chance to walk away if they insisted on making this a fight I would certainly indulge them. _

"_I am Sir Henry Morgan" This impresses me because? "And unless the boy is yours I suggest you attend to your own affairs."_

_Those huge brown were studying the situation uninterested in me except as a means of escape. We would have to see if I could change that. I grinned a little at the array of weapons pointed in my direction. I really had missed a good old fashioned bit of brawling. Peregrine was going to scold for days over this and he had a point I really was in no condition to pick a fight except __**I**__ hadn't. The honors for that went to a certain brown-eyed ruffian that was refusing to make my acquaintance. Mind you I certainly could have offered to pay the great windbag and promised the boy a thrashing but the instant that piece of excrement had asked permission to rape my brother what little good sense I had ever possessed had take flight._

"_I seem to be without any affairs of my own at the moment" as long as you ignored the fact that I was supposed to be rescuing an entire kingdom "so I've decided to mind the boy's." If he'll let me, if he'll slow down long enough for me to even ask, if I'm not too much of an invalid to even try. _

"_You're mad." Morgan barked. 'But NOT deaf' I was tempted to riposte._

"_Perhaps" I allowed. Jane's God alone knew what sorts of problems having huge chunks of one's soul ripped away was going to cause and it was a rather pervasive family weakness. "But you still will do the boy no harm while I breath" I made the windbag's name an insult "Sir Henry Morgan."_

_My brother shifted getting ready to bolt the instant an opportunity presented itself. I was going to have to tie him up and sit on him just to keep him still long enough to introduce myself. And I was seriously beginning to wonder just how the lad had survived this long if he got into this much trouble on a regular basis._

_The windbag's eyes narrowed, suddenly a bit nervous in spite of the six to one odds "Who are ye?" Hmmmm, how did I want to answer that? "Ye dress like a scalawag" Not in any lifetime but he didn't know that "but ye speak like a lord"_

_The smile spread, I'd let them make the first move "I'm not as free with my name as you are Henry" and that gives me a bit more time to figure out precisely how I wanted to go about introducing myself to my brother "but if you don't stand aside ye'll call me Death."_

_That was enough to send the windbag's temper into the heavens. I wrapped my fingers around Risanca (Rise and shine) I purred to Nimrais and Angnar (I've found you dinner)._

_My speed was undiminished but even using magic more than (nonexistent) muscle to animate my bones my movements were halting and jerky. That would NOT do. Once I had a moment I was going to have to dedicate some serious time to working the kinks back out. I should have done it ere now. Terribly sloppy of me. I made the one with inappropriate preferences my priority while using the narrow confines of the alley to make it difficult for them to bring their numerical superiority to bear on me. It shouldn't have MATTERED. I was a damn site better than this but weak and stiff it did no matter how much I disliked it. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. And up under the ribs and out quick enough to use Risanca on that great blowhard Morgan while ducking under the dying man's final swing. As Morgan toppled in his turn my brother used the opening to dart past. While I was glad he was clear that meant I was back to chasing him through the back alleys of this sad excuse for a town. _

_Parry, Mannwan would hang, riposte, his head in shame, thrust, if he could, duck, see my sad, I drove the base of my palm into one of their noses dropping him, performance. Three down, three to go but now that they were no longer crowding each other it actually, rather sadly, became a more even fight. This was pathetic, I was blown and struggling against a mere handful of dynol assailants. I was a little too slow getting Risanca free of my fourth kill and the taller of the remaining two managed to skewer me. I didn't even feel the damn injury over throb of my ravaged soul, just heard the Blood as it spilled. Blast that would make it harder to track the boy with my own Blood providing a counterpoint. Desperate to end the fight quickly since I wasn't inclined to test my much diminished limits I flung dirt into the short one's eyes, returned the favor to the tall one then finished off the short one while he was still blinking hard. Letting him slid off Risanca to join his fellows in the dust I met my brother's huge chocolate eyes for the first time before he whirled. I started to follow but my knees buckled and I landed in a puddle of my own blood. Oh, yes, forgot about that. Begrudging every wasted second I knit my innards back together, heaved halfway to my feet, and ended up on my hands and knees panting, dark spots that had far more to do with blood loss and the physical deterioration from the privation of the carchar than my ravaged enaid. The body would just have to fall into line because hell be damned if I was going to lose another sibling. I pushed back to my feet and set out after the boy. _

_My brother was quick and clever with an impressive understanding of how to use both people and terrain to shake pursuit. If I had been a dynol he would have lost me six times in ten minutes. We nearly came face to face when confident that no one could have kept up with him my brother doubled back. The slack jawed shock was comical until he…darkness._

_Light. A gwyelt, my brother was a gwyelt and a powerful one at that. With a single well focused wish he had pulled the proverbial rug right out from under me and sent plunging back into the darkness then yanked me back. _

Jack was all but growling at the page. "Ye could bloody well explain what a gwyelt is." Then those kohl rimmed eyes turned to me "Except that he did earlier and ye knew, whelp."

It was frequently easy to forget that Captain Jack Sparrow was in fact a somewhat dangerous pirate, this was not one of those times.

"Mallory might have mentioned it."

"Oh did he now. And when were you going te pass along that little, superfluous, detail?" Jack's voice dripped sarcasm.

"He asked me not to"

"Did he now and why would he be telling you and not me?"

"Because it's a wild talent. He was afraid you would become dependent on it if you knew and if it failed that it would get you killed."

"So why be telling **you**, dear William?"

"He asked me to keep an eye on you."

"You" Jack scoffed "keep an eye on me? You'd have better luck watching the wind, whelp." Jack tried to make it teasing but he was clearly angry. "Anything else you've forgotten to share?"

"You change the odds in any situation just by wanting. You wanted off the island and you didn't want Mallory to be the one to do it" I had no idea where the next words came from "the gwyelt is like water finding its course it picks the route of least resistance. That wish nearly killed you both. It was an ill wish against him when he was fighting for his life and you called the rum runners right down on yourself. You have to be more careful what you wish for Sparrow you're leaving a trail of bodies behind you." I clicked my mouth shut and blinked at him in surprise.

"Ye told him ye'd keep watch on me didn't ye?" Jack raised his head in the general direction of Mallory "Ye want te lecture me ye do it yerself." He gave me a sardonic golden grin "Didn't yer mother teach ye te be careful about making deals with the Fair Folk?" He shook his head and I shivered when the beads clicked together something in the sound sending a chill up my spine.

"It isn't a joke, Jack" I snapped "it was your wish that sent the Dauntless to the bottom and put Port Royal in the hands of the enemy."

Jack rolled his eyes.

I wanted to shake him. I understood his youthful fears that magic caused madness given the shape Mallory had been in but he knew now that Mallory's problems were rooted in a series of savage attacks not caused simply by magic in and of itself. I suppose old habits die hard but I was used to Jack flying ahead of me not dragging reluctantly behind, "Didn't you listen to a word Mallory said on Le Terrible?"

"He was a touch barmy aboard Le Terrible, not himself at all, in case it slipped yer attention" but there was fear in Jack's eyes, fear that Mallory's accusations might be true. Jack was a pirate through and through but he was also a good man who went FAR out of his way to shed as little blood as possible, little wonder he wanted to deny Mallory's insistence that he was somehow at fault because if it was his fault he would be obligated to do something about it. It must be ever so much easier to retreat into the comfortable safety of believing Mallory mad. Except I could tell that belief was on shaky ground as Jack resumed reading.

_I glanced up and down the street. The only reason I could think of for him to have wished me back was that he'd gotten himself into something that he needed me to get him out of. He was __**close,**__ extremely close. Could he weave Shadow? _

_(Look up) a thin little tabby perched in the window to my left suggested. I blinked twice in shock, no cat had spoken to me since the night Jane died, the night I became Draco, the night I cursed Looks Afar. I had gone from pride to pariah. No cat would even suffer my presence, leaving any room I entered. _

_I glanced up at the sound of breaking wood and caught his blood soaked body as he tumbled backwards little arms flailing as if he was trying to take flight. As the light in his eyes faded I promised my Sparrow that I wouldn't let him fall. His breathing hitched as the red of his enaid suddenly bleached to a faint pink. Oh, NO YOU __**DON'T**__. I had lost too many siblings to let my Sparrow slip through my fingers. I called on Sea but She protested. It was one thing for me to skim the proverbial surface of her power but She was too big, too vast for even me to safely tap Her depths. _

_(We'll both die if I don't try) I told Her. I didn't have enough left in me as I was to save him and survive it. I would die before I skimmed off of dynol or Ellyllon ever again. _

_Power the like of which I had never even dreamed crashed over me like a tidal wave. I had no words for it deep, vast, infinite, consuming, pounding, burning, wild, calm, in a distant somewhere a heart fluttered to a staggering. SPARROW! Still tossed like a cork in the swirling vortex that was Sea I channeled the thinnest thread of power down healing the boy. I followed it tweezing the connection to Sea to as slender a thread as I could but I still felt bloated and overstretched. He stirred in my arms and not caring what filth might be beneath me I dropped down back against the building, rocking him, soothing him into an enchanted sleep since I simply could not face trying to explain, I wasn't even certain I could speak as…absorbed into Sea as I was. The moon __**pulled **__on me tugging incessantly…. _

_The…creature that had spoken growled. Sparrow's blood, Sparrow's prize, laughing, dead. Dry here, dry was wrong, rose cradling Sparrow and his prize, and flowing down the street set off to rejoin the rest of myself. I tried to pour through the boards but there something wrong with me. I was distressingly…solid but not frozen like ice._

_(Rhys) I shook my head at Peregrine's call. I moved as quickly as I could without jostling my precious cargo any more than I had to. I opted for a guest cabin instead of my own. _

_(I see you found him.)_

_No sense getting my own bed filthy between Sparrow's encrusted dirt and the slime I'd coated my cloak in (and given that it had been a brothel I'd decided to lean against one simply did not __**want **__to know) we were both messes. I laid Sparrow in the bed first then carefully swirled the cloak to minimize both contamination to the cabin and damage to it before slipping off my boots, coiling Risanca in easy reach, and ever so gingerly let the link to Sea slip away hoping that I wasn't accidentally committing suicide. I might be an invalid but I happened to want to be a living one. _

_Warm breath was tickling my ear. Oh, yes, my brother still dozing in his enchanted sleep. He'd rolled over at some point to snuggle against me, a little contented smile curling his lips, fingers wrapped around Morgan's purse in a death grip. It was tempting to rejoin him but my boat had some serious explaining to do. _

_So wrapped in the warm, comfortable fog of not being folded up in a box, in a haze of borderline __diffygoil since my enaid was still supporting both of us, and floating on the drift of the tide I asked_

_(Peregrine? I seem to have stumbled across a sibling, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?)_

_A rather telling hesitation (His mother knew some of what happened to you and believing that her son was better off dead than in the hands of your but she couldn't bear to kill him so she sent Wind to ask me if there was aught to be done.)_

_I had the notion that there was a glaringly obvious question I should be asking but my eyelids were sagging besides the tide was going out and with it most of what little concentration I had as I let Peregrine's story wash over me._

"_Your pardon" perhaps I misunderstood that. I started to sit up but even in an enchanted sleep Sparrow made a small chirp of protest. I nearly lost my entire thought as I grinned at him "you entrusted my brother to some….woman who wanted to escape to a notorious pit of debauchery? I take back every insinuation I ever made that you had the least scrap of intelligence. What the bloody blue blazes were you thinking?!!"_

_(We're linked) Peregrine snapped back (and while I didn't know and STILL don't know what they were doing to you I do know you were dying by inches.)_

"_That doesn't explain what my brother was doing dressed in rags, stealing to survive, and" I wrapped a protective arm around him "just LOOK at his enaid and you can see what's happened to him" and I will personally rip the throat out of the next deviant that even looks askance at you with my teeth I promised him as he curled even further into the embrace. I have a brother. I had to pause and just watch him breath my fingers snaking around his wrist to brush against the steady throb of his pulse. I kissed his filthy cheek promising that I would be the best big brother ever. I'll protect you, I swore, to the last drop of my Blood, to the ends of my strength, to my last breath and beyond if you will let me._

_(You can't possibly be considering keeping him) Peregrine admonished. _

_My grip tightened, Sparrow moaned a protest and in consternation I forced myself to peel my fingers free "Of course I am" if I can convince him to agree "he's my brother."_

_(Rhys) Peregrine had that stepping on eggshells tone (you can't even take care of yourself.)_

_As if I'd somehow forgotten I'd been rendered an invalid. _

_(You're spending more time as one of the living dead than you alive, and when you are aware you are…not yourself) Put less diplomatically when you are aware you tremble like a palsy victim, have unremitting night terrors, beg for comfort, and are giving to self-pityingly lying around in bed. Well the last two were certainly going to stop forthwith and I would simply have to set what remained of my will to dealing with the rest. My brother might leave me if that was his choice but no one, __**NO ONE**__ else was going to separate us. _

"_Even if the best I can give him is a few scraps of my attention, clean clothes, and a roof over his head it will be more than you did for him. Do you actually expect me to toss him back out into the gutter?! Not a word" I snarled. "You came for me when I needed you most and I'm thankful. I am. But what you did to my brother is…" words failed "Draigs 'Grine, what the hell! You could have bloody told me he was here. He nearly __**died**__ yesterday because he was abandoned to rot by you."_

Jack jumped ahead.

_Who the hell did Peregrine think he was? I rubbed my cheek against Sparrow's forehead as I stormed through the town having sent the Winds to bring me word about the various lodgings that were available having NO desire to look at my idiot of a boat any time soon. Not that I expected this…place to have anything even approaching acceptable. It was early and the parties were just beginning to get into full swing. While I was waiting for Wind to return I purchased the best clothes I could find at the market for Sparrow. They really would not do but were at least clothes as opposed to the things that were currently clinging to him. _

_I picked what sounded like the least objectionable place in town paying for an interior room and several hours in the bathroom. I burned the offending not garments off of him, stripped myself to the waist, and settled him into the warm, perfumed water. This was going to take several changes of water. Fortunately Sea was feeling rather chagrined even if She had no clue what I was angry about and would be more than happy to change the water as often as necessary. _

_I decided start at the top. According to Peregrine he had been here for a little over five years and from the look of things it had been at least that long since his hair had seen a comb. I wondered if the boy was intentionally hiding things in this bird's nest perched on his head given the amount of flotsam and jetsam I was discovering. I was forced to cut a few of the worst matted patches but overall I was pleased with how much of his fine dark hair I was able to salvage. Calling Wind and Fire I dried it letting it pour back and forth through my fingers before gently washing his face. I tilted his head so that I was looking down at the long lashes that would frame his chocolate eyes when I finally let him wake. I ran a finger up one delicate pointed ear. If I hadn't gone to Avalon, if I had waited for Gwyla like she had asked, if we had had a son he would have looked very much like Sparrow. His enaid had regained a very healthy red tone and with reluctance I clipped the link, finished cleaning him up, dressed him into a long white shirt, and tucked him into bed._

_I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed just watching him breath then brushed a lock of hair back off his face. He stirred nearly ready to wake but I was reluctant to allow it content for the moment just to drink in the sight of him, to watch his enaid slowly dance in his sleep. _

I had to glance at Jack surprised that any man would read something so embarrassing. He was looking at the page like he didn't quite believe it himself. Mallory felt like he was more than a little in love with Jack, not in _that_ sense but it was the closest I could come. The Governor had slipped back in at some point and was giving Elizabeth the dreamiest of glances. I looked over and caught my father in the act as well. Do parents fall in love with their children? I looked over at Elizabeth would I feel as strongly about our daughter as I did her?

_I had sworn no bastards but that didn't mean that I didn't want to be a father and he was simply perfect. What was to stop me from telling the boy I was his father? I froze thinking of Melerie and all those prophesies of hers. I sifted through all that I could remember that involved me 'with another, like a brother' and in every case if we allied against my father one ended up with a 'happily ever after' and the other ended up dead or worse. No, no, I wouldn't use him as a pawn. I rose to pace the small room. Would it be best for him if I did as Peregrine suggested and abandoned him?_

_I gazed at him sleeping blissfully. I couldn't. He needed me. I was unwilling to deliver him into the care of strangers and everyone I might have trusted from before was long dead. So, I would simply have to ensure that he never had an opportunity to meet our darling papa. I swallowed hard and restrained a shiver at the mere thought of Him. No shakes, no darkness, actually I felt better than I had in decades. Why? Other than the obvious. While I still had to constantly concentrate just a bit on not slipping away I certainly wasn't having nearly the trouble I had had earlier. I was loath to close my eyes but this was a question that NEEDED answering. _

_Enaids didn't cast reflections, you can't really see your own but if you know what you're doing you can certainly feel it and mine throbbed in places I'd never dreamed it had. I shook my head enough wallowing. It hurts get the hell over it. So, I traced the ragged edges, the pits, the rents, gouges, and raw wounds. I halted in surprise when I came across a completely unsullied patch. Healing. It was a place to stand. Time alone would tell if it would hold but now I had a place to begin, with Sparrow's Blood and Peregrine's mast to serves as lighthouses I could find my way back out of the dark, and I had reason to fight. The people of Avalon, vengeance against my Sire for what He'd done to me should have been enough, maybe in time they would have been but my brother was something I could touch, here and now. Draigs for the sake of a touch I had very nearly groveled at my Sire's feet. If I was actually being honest, I likely needed my brother more than he needed me. _

_I hung my head out the door and summoning the owner's little urchin ordered a meal to be delivered in an hour and a half. Sparrow would be ravenous by then and food would undoubtedly be tempting. I swallowed hard. I had had to set a time otherwise I was going to turn the poor boy into sleeping beauty. I had never been much of a meditation enthusiast but I had learned some of the tricks through the years and I found myself using them now to slow my racing heart. Nobles, kings, and princes had bowed before me, pirate ships and royal navies alike had lowered their flags at the roar of my name, Earth, Wind, Sea, and Fire served me, I had changed the course of entire nations, waged war and fought more battles than I cared to count so why did the thought of a little boy telling me 'thanks but no thanks' fill me with dread? I needed a plan, as much for my own peace of mind as for success. _

_So, what approach would best serve both my purposes and the situation? I had proven that my body would continue to carry out whatever standing orders it had been given even when I was lost in the dark but somehow doubted that I had much of a personality when I was 'away' therefore it would behoove me to be behave as emotionally 'flat' when myself. How horribly drab, but best to err on the side of caution. Dark clothing, a somber mien, and a taciturn, stoic outlook would likely serve best in the long run though I doubted the cheeky little spit fire I had for a brother was going to approve actually neither did I but there were no better options. _

_Next issue, how did I convince my Sparrow, hmmm, hadn't someone called him by name when I was away? I pulled the knowledge from Argellion's gift. Jack? Will had mention Gwyla getting married, fellow named Paper – Jackie Paper? I shuddered, nom it simply wouldn't do besides tradition required a bird name for a Sperling. Sparrow Sperling was just entirely too redundant perhaps Jack Sparrow? So, how did I convince Jack Sparrow that he should trust me? I could try the truth but I didn't trust him not to go looking for our mutual Sire. No, best not to mention that we were Blood kin, not now, not until I was ready to let him fly free. If __**I**__ found out after a lifetime of not knowing who I was and where I came from that my brother had been keeping mum for over a decade I would be in no mood to do him any favors and given Melerie's prophesies that was by far and away the safest place for my Sparrow to be when the time came for me to…to face Him again. If I believed in any god though I would pray that he wouldn't hate me for this. I just want you safe Sparrow, no matter what else, no matter if you hate me for it, if all I do with the tattered remnants of my life is keep you out of His hands then I will not have lived in vain. _

"All things being equal" Jack said to the ceiling as if Mallory could hear him "I would have preferred the truth. For that matter I would have liked te have known **ye** instead o' the mask ye chose te wear. Ye" he had to pause torn between anger and what I suspected were tears "arrogant bloody aristocrat. How dare ye presume te decide for me? It would serve ye right if I did hate ye, if I did leave ye te face yer troubles alone."

Commodore Norrington looked a Jack as if he were a particularly offensive insect. "Then you will kindly leave the journal to those who understand the notion of gratitude. Pirates are all alike, take what you can and give nothing back."

Jack's kohl rimmed eyes narrowed "Don't be hasty, mate. I never said I was going te leave me brother high and dry"

"Again" my father interrupted with an even less friendly look than the Commodore's "since it wouldn't be the first or even the second time now would it, Jack."

Jack looked wounded "I was a spoiled young fool, Bill. I have absolutely no intention o' letting him hare off te get his fool self killed but that doesn't mean I have te be happy about the fact that he can be a bloody manipulative git."

Oh, like Jack of all people had room to complain about tight lipped schemers. Pot meet kettle, it must run in the Blood.

"Or that I can't tell him that I don't approve o it. I was bloody cheated out o' knowing me brother, I wasted years thinking things weren't what they were, and if our blond not-visitor with delusions o' grandeur is correct then it's **my** fault he's in the state he's in" Jack paused beaded dread locks swinging forward to obscure his face "and I don't even know what I've done." You could hear the tendrils of fear in his voice. And he should be Mallory was no wilting violet. Whatever we were going to find near the end of the journal, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Ye don't have te be happy with a brother te love him and want te save him, Commodore" Jack said in a velvet and steel voice before flipping the journal back open.

_I pulled the journal out of its place over my heart and opening to the.._

_Dear Will_

_I've never had any faith in your God or your heaven but I rather hope that those whom I have loved and lost continue on in some fashion so I shall continue to write in hopes that if you do you shall know that I was not faithless myself. Heretofore all my experience has told me that if anything beyond a ysbrd survives death then it has no access to the land of the living but I find it ironic in the extreme that the one thing I asked for, a Sea breeze and enough of myself to know what it was. If the dead do in fact have some ability to watch over the living then my deepest gratitude. _

_To my everlasting surprise and joy I seem to have also gained a sibling. Given the shade and flash of his enaid I rather suspect he is going to be a great deal of trouble and I find I am looking forward to it IMMENSLY_

Jack made a strangled, sputtering sound.

_but it wouldn't do to let him know that. From what I have seen he is quite the scamp and it will be my sad and unfortunate duty to attempt to restrain his exuberance just enough to keep the intrepid little fool alive. I anticipate that I will __**not**__ be board!! I must confess that despite my keenness to make my brother's acquaintance and my eagerness for the task of teaching and protecting him I find myself sorely daunted by the task before me. As a father yourself you undoubtedly know this strange mix of fascination, fear, and wonder that accompanies the thought of suddenly being responsible for another life? Of course, as a Prince I have already held whole nations in the palm of my hand but this is…different._

The writing paused as Mallory went back to watching little Jack breath. Personally I didn't see the fascination as Jack skipped down to the arrival of breakfast. To my surprise Mallory had actually tucked the journal away BEFORE Jack awoke but had left the Shadow of it as a prop since he didn't want to frighten Jack off with his eagerness.

_Not a bad a job of trying to cover the fact that he was awake. If I were a dynol I would have missed it, but I'm not. I waited with APPARENT nonchalance until the curiosity (and hunger) I could see building in his enaid inspired the slightest of peeks through his long dark lashes. I really should have given him a little longer but I was far too eager. _

_I've hoodwinked kings, duped popes, and gazed into Draigs' eyes I could manage this "Good morning Sparrow."_

_He gave up all pretense at sleep and blinked at me. His eyes quickly darted around the room and then turned calculating. Quick, clever, bold, but willing to bide his time. Good. _

"_My name is Jack."_

_Not to me "Jack Sparrow then" And Peregrine thought I was incapable of compromise. _

"_Am I dead?"_

_If this was the poor child's idea of heaven then I had even more work to do than I thought "No"._

_Sitting up he demanded brashly "Why are you following me?"_

_Moment of truth "__"I have a proposition to offer you Jack Sparrow but you keep running away."_

_A flicker of fear, I winced but made certain the Shadow didn't echo it. Just as soon as the opportunity presented itself I was going to go on a Blood Hunt and ensure that every miscreant that had the least trace of my brother on him didn't live long and begged for the mercies of hell._

"_I ain't got no coin" he said too quickly, frightened but trying hide it. And Draigs the way he spoke. I could see I had a great deal of work ahead._

_In an attempt to reassure him I said "You have Captain Morgan's purse."_

_He frowned in confusion "Harry took it._

_The Draig roared "Harry didn't get far." Sparrow gulped flinching, damn, I fought the Draig back down with the observation that the thieving git was dead. In a more normal voice "You'll find it on the night stand with not a coin missing."_

_Now he was thoroughly confused "What do you want?"_

"_Now, Jack Sparrow, that's exactly what I've been waiting to ask ye" yesh I was starting to sound like him "What do you want?"_

"_What do you mean?" My brother was quick and clever but he clearly couldn't conceive of what I was taking about. I could sympathize if it hadn't been for Milady Latimer. I will miss you forever I thought before saying _

"_In fourteen years" how quickly do adhil grow? How much slower do they age than dynol? Would fourteen years be enough? "Jack Sparrow when you're a man grown" maybe "where do you wish to be?" If there is a God out there please don't let him say blacksmith._

_From the blank incomprehension in those huge chocolate eyes my brother had never been introduced to generosity or kindness._

"_No dreams, Jack Sparrow?" I challenged._

_I could see the desire the dreams building in his enaid. Please, brother, pick something I can still do._

"_I want ta be captain of the fastest ship in the Caribbean."_

_That I could do in my sleep but could I do it in 'the dark'?_

"_In the end, Jack Sparrow, all that really matters is what a man can do and what he can't do" the stranger reflected "Can you build a ship? Buy one? Commandeer one? Sail one? Navigate? Read the weather? Find a port in a storm? Provision a ship far from any 'civilized' town? Command men in battle? Fight with a blade? Staunch a friend's wounds? Load and fire a gun? It's not an easy thing Sparrow being Captain." Sparrow shrank a little more after each question but I wanted to be certain he had some notion of what he was asking for before we got started.. Now to show what I had to offer "But I __**have**__ done all those things Sparrow, and many more. I will teach you Sparrow, if you let me." _

"_What's in it for you?" he demanded, eyes narrowing, I could even see his little pointed ears flick back "If I picked every pocket in Tortuga I could not pay the coin that's worth."_

"_No all treasure is silver and gold, mate." Sometimes you find a pearl of great price "And there are some things all the treasure in the world can not purchase Sparrow." And I would sell all that I have for you. I will protect you brother I promised him without speaking it, to the bitter end "If in fourteen years when ye stand as Captain Jack Sparrow on your own quarter deck we'll both know whether I've earned that which I seek. And if not Sparrow I'll never trouble ye again. Do we have an accord?" Liar I called myself, at the end of fourteen years when if all goes well he's going to see you as his surrogate father you're going to do everything you can to drive him away. And I won't Sparrow by then you should be ready to fly free and I'll well only time will tell. I took his hand in my own wanting to crow for joy that he was willing to accept my offer._

_Since I couldn't snatch him up bear hug and toss him over my head without likely sending him running for the hills in terror I presented him his breakfast with a courtly flourish.   
_

"_You're daft" he muttered staring at me. _

_Probably, I was decidedly giddy with a kind of euphoria that heretofore I had thought only came from chocolate. "Undeniably, an unfortunate failing of my entire House. The blood is simply far too blue." I had to restrain a giggle, I wanted to skip around the room._

"_Have you already ate?"_

_I winced at the appalling grammar, not in about 77 years, hmm, Peregrine had tried to get me to eat but it just hadn't seemed important. "Not recently" I allowed._

"_I don't like to eat by me onesies" So lonely almost as lonely as I was, you could see it in his enaid "Won't ye have some with me?"_

"_I would be most honored Captain Sparrow to join you for breakfast." I said settling cross legged across from him on the bed and gingerly took a bite. The place had proven to be respectable and considering the state of the rest of the town surprisingly clean. I nibbled, and had to close my eyes at the wash of nearly forgotten sensation. It had been so LONG. It was just a little egg but it was heaven. I didn't dare eat more than three small bites since my stomach was likely to be as overwhelmed by the return of sustenance as the rest of me was to the return of light. I had the Shadow appear to continue eating so as not to startle Sparrow and leaned back content to watch him devouring his meal with obvious relish. I winced when he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. We would work on manners later. All things in their time. But it's SLOPPY part of me protested but I ignored it as best I could. _

"_What's your name?"_

_Good question. Pity I don't have one. "You may call me Mallory." Draigs know it fits at least. _

"_That's not your real name."_

_Clearly my ability to lie well was slipping._

"_No, it isn't." I replied mouth twisting before I continued "I could say, Sparrow that it isn't always wise to use your real name and that would be true but the __**truth**__ is that I hate my real name and I never want to hear it again." Not quite true but legally in Avalon my name is Ariel, which not only leaves me named in honor of a 'deity' that I was less than certain I like or trust as well as the thief of my twin sister's only possession "Now, finish your breakfast Captain, we have a ship to build."_

"_To build?" he chirped in surprise._

"_You requested the fastest ship on the Caribean – well, there are things Mallory knows about ships and the sea that no shipyard in the world does and no ship they build will ever match" I smiled as I named her, a pearl for my pearl "the Black Pearl." I couldn't stay still anymore, I just couldn't. I was bursting and if I didn't get out of the room I was going to pick my brother and go dancing round the room with him. I laughed joy bubbling up from deep inside and spilling over as I tossed Sparrow the clothes I'd purchase for him and skipped (the Shadow merely walked) out of the room. I slid down the banister and did a galliard through the common room (while the Shadow sat in sedate regality)._

_The Wind blew me a message from Peregrine (If he makes you that happy then by all means bring him down here. I just don't want to see you hurt anymore Rhys. Dragons life forever, but not so little boys eventually he's going to grow up on you.)_

_(I know) I sent back (I'm counting on it. 'Grine I've lived in the past for 77 years not daring the last decade or so to even dream I had a future. Just, just let me have NOW for a little while, please.)_

_(He's red as they come…You know what that means.)_

_I laughed again. (BRING IT ON!) I flicked an ear, hearing the door open as Sparrow came vaulting down the stairs. _

"_Where do we start?"_

"_The market first. I need to reprovision Peregrine then we need to sail to a quite cove."_

_Ever so gingerly I snaked an arm around my brother's shoulder as cautious as I would a skittish colt but to my joy he didn't spook. I nearly whited out several times in the market overwhelmed by the noise but I managed to not be fleeced too badly and to keep an eye on Sparrow's application of the five finger discount on prices. He wasn't bad. I was better but I'd had more practice. Just to make a point for later I stole several very pricy items from the grocer with the rigged scales. I also overpaid several more honest shop keepers to cover Sparrow's thefts before having everything ported down to the docks for loading. _

"_Which one" Sparrow asked eyeing the vessels at the wharf and the ones out in the bay._

_I hadn't expected him to be able to read but hearing it confirmed. Well, we would work on that too. _

"_The black one."_

"_Will my ship be black like yours?"_

"_Peregrine isn't a ship he's a boat. The Black Pearl will be a ship."_

_(Oh, I see how you are!)_

_(Don't worry I'll always love you best. And you'll still be prettier and faster.)_

"_Boat's are girls."_

"_Not this one." _

_I got us ready to leave the dock as the hands I'd hired finished stowing my purchases below. As I called the winds and the sails billowed Sparrow scampered like a monkey up the rigging to watch the port slipping away. I reached back and undid my usual tight braid letting the wind whip the blue strands round my face. Yes, it was sloppy but what the hell. Yes, I hurt with every breath, yes my enaid was in shreds, yes I was in exile but I was free, I had a brother, and whatever may come whatever would be right now it was __**GOOD TO BE ALIVE!!**_

21


	34. Sibling Rivalry

No, I haven't died, yes I should be ashamed of myself. No I haven't actually abandoned this story even though I haven't posted in forever. This chapter was supposed to go on a bit longer but given that it's already nearly 30,000 words I thought I should post it since I was at a good break point.

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 19b: Sibling Rivalry**

Jack smirked looking down at the journal before Norrington dryly noted "Captain Sparrow indulging your own narcissism gets us no closer to aiding your brother."

Jack leveled a less than friendly glare at him before passing the journal to Elizabeth "Does that meet with yer approval?" he asked them both "Don't blink at me luv as yer bloody friend **Zander** pointed out we're burning daylight."

With a quick nod Elizabeth scanned the page and began reading.

_I rested my head against my forearm ignoring both the fact that the ruby in my crown was drawing blood and that my hands were shaking. It might have taken me less than a fortnight to physically recover from the carchar (once I set my will to the task. I was frankly ashamed of my behavior. I was the Prince of Avalon and had NO right to be a malingerer and had NO excuse for my indulgence) but the last six months had more than proven Argellion's warning about the extent of the damage to my enaid. Things that had once come as easily as breathing were now tortuous at best and impossible at worst. Drawing a deep breath I leaned back surveying Pearl's nearly finished hull wondering just what she would be when she woke…if she woke. There was no mistaking the magic thrumming under my finger tips but with my own awareness unraveling nearly as quickly as I could restore it I had no idea what her personality would be or if she would even have one. I knew what I had TRIED to impart but…._

_Enough, leaning here wasn't getting Pearl any closer to being completed nor did it change the fact that I should have had her done months ago. I flicked an ear as one of the breezes that had accompanied Sparrow on his trip to town whispered that he was returning. I sighed with relief. I hadn't wanted to force the issue. The boy was neither blind nor stupid. It hadn't taken him a day to figure out that something was wrong with his benefactor. Since I'd been lost in the dark when it happened I'd had to glean why Sparrow was gone when I finally clawed my way back with the assistance of Argellion's gift and the old remnants of my lighthouse spell. Apparently not even the lure of captaining his own ship was enough to keep Sparrow in my 'completely daft' company. Peregrine had a point. I had no business trying to raise the boy, had no business trying to build a lledrith of any kind much less a floating fortress, and certainly had no business even vaguely considering trying to captain her. But I'd promised the boy in that giddy wash of joy at finally being free and I had every intention of keeping those promises even if it killed me. Besides what else could I do? Our Sire clearly had some plan for the child and I couldn't in good conscious abandon him to it. A bitter bark of something resembling laughter slipped past my lips. Poor child, caught between two monsters. The darkness fluttered at the edges of my vision threatening to pull me back into its embrace but six months of wrestling with my unstable enaid had taught me a few tricks and I remained in the waking world this time._

_Sparrow hesitated on the edge of the clearing, intently studying the boots I'd bought him. I finished the setting the plank in place before turning toward him. He swallowed loud enough for dynol ears to hear as he crept closer._

"_I'm sorry" he didn't look up from his boots "I shouldn't have said those things." He held out one entirely too grubby hand. How DID the child manage to be so unendingly filthy? "I brought ye some fancy…stuff." I took the proffered peace offerings with an elegant bow and my thanks. String, sealing wax, three mismatched buttons, and something even I couldn't identify._

"_Ain't" Sparrow began but corrected himself to "isn't" before I could say anything "yer fault yer daft. I do want te learn from ye 'cause when yer really here yer" the boy paused waving his hands as what he wanted to say and his desire to not insult me further collided. "yer bloody brilliant and when yer not, well then it will be Captain Jack Sparrow's task te keep a weather eye out. Tis what partners do fer each other."_

_I was caught somewhere between touched and too furious to speak. I nearly choked on the rage before welcoming him back and telling him to wash up before he touched ANYTHING. As I straightened wondering what to do with three mismatched buttons, two pieces of string, and one unidentifiable object, the sealing wax might actually be useful at some point…darkness…light. My fingers brushed against Risanca._

'_That has to be getting tiresome' Nimrais commented._

'_I told you it isn't an option, I have no intentions of changing my mind' I retorted as I started back to the Pearl's nearly finished hull. _

'_But it would be so easy. The boy would die without pain.'_

_I shivered in the Caribbean heat blood running icy cold not even slightly tempted by Nimrais' abominable suggestion. Seeing that my gaze was on him the boy smiled and waved before scrambling around Pearl as agilely as any monkey with no idea that a dead Draig was trying to convince me to strip him of his enaid to stabilize the ragged bits of my own. _

'_You won't hurt anymore, you won't slip into the darkness' the Draig rumbled. _

'_I fell into one of your snares before hell be damned if I'll do it again.'_

_He hissed 'Fool' and then vanished to wherever it was the shades of dead Draigs went when they weren't trying to tempt me into being an even nastier soul than I already was. I put Sparrow to work on the railings while I returned to the working on the deck. I shook off a wash of darkness and instead ended up trapped in one of my own memories…_

**I had expected to be met by Mannwan as Captain of the King's Guard or failing that by some Udd but instead my escort consisted of an entire troop of red caps, several difabyd, a difaenaid, the Gwyilgi, and an extremely sour looking Puck Robin leading a score of hobs. Clearly he was still holding a grudge over Neidr. Well two could play at that game. I was none too happy about what had happened to him myself. One way or another his father was going to feel my wrath. **

**I felt naked without a Shadow to cover me but the days of my weaving Shadow every moment of every day were over until my Taithe. I made a point to appear utterly serene, even as my gut screamed that I should have seen another Ellyllon by now that the 'escort' that had met me after passing through the valley of the Draigs was no honor guard. I was a prisoner, or so my Sire thought. Even the Wind seemed still, slow, and…frightened. Earth was never my strong suit but that didn't mean that I wasn't moved when it groaned and mourned under my feet. The longer I was in Avalon the more furious I became. There was no question that something was seriously amiss from the Winds which carried the same stench as a Russian one to the rivers which flowed with out joy. Avalon more than any mortal kingdom above was tied to the will of its King and I was beginning to think that my grandfather might have had been wise to have me trained as an assassin. Not that I was considering usurping the throne. A flutter of nervous anticipation which I quashed. I was no longer among blind dynol. Control of the physical was no longer enough, it must reflect in my enaid as well. Neither my anger, nor my apprehensiveness, nor my curiosity must show. True nobility born and bred with all the 'quality' thereof. You never get a second chance to make a first impression. So, beauty, grace, style, confidence, pride, competence, patience and nothing more.**

**That aplomb was tested when the Citadel's magical 'gates' closed behind me. It was undoubtedly the fact that my escort looked more like detail from a prison guard making me so restless that and the fundamental wrongness of, well, everything. These were my lands as much as England had been Bess's. France Henri's, and the Low Countries Guiles'. Despite being able to bespeak Earth I had never truly felt the connection before and wished now that I had been kinder to them about it. This land was MINE in a way the Outlands had never been and someone had abused it, it didn't matter that I had seen next to nothing of what would one day be my Kingdom, the agony of my realm was a moan in my ears that made it difficult to hear aught else, a wound in my side that pulsed with every beat of my heart, a foul taste on the back of my throat, a fetid stench in my nostrils. I longed to break away from my less than cheery escort and heal my realm but first I needed to know what was amiss. Where better than in the court?**

**How could my father have allowed the situation to become so grave? Was he himself a captive of the master of the creatures that made up my escort? Mannwan would have died first. And perhaps he had. Softly, softly, nothing must show but calm until I had seen the full lay of the land and taken the weather gauge. If Mannwan had fallen he would be avenged. I was a bit surprised that we merely swept into the Great Hall without any sort of fan fare. Well, if these bumpkins could not be relied upon it introduce me properly I would have to see to it myself. I gathered the Draig, not in rage, but in majesty. Let my people see a Penthalion worthy of their adoration. To my gratification my escort fell back in awe as every head in the Great Hall turned. Summoning every scrap of regal grace I'd ever learned in the dynol courts and letting none of the maelstrom in my gut show, I glided towards the dais at the far end parting the Ellyllon and cyfae between like Jane's Moses through the Red Sea. I gave my Sire the proper obeisance of a Prince of the Blood to the reining monarch and rolled my eyes so far forward trying to peer at him with my head down that I was practically looking at the inside of my eyelids. **

**He appeared surprisingly old for his years since he was not yet four hundred, younger by far than his sister-wives (my mother was a full two centuries his elder and SHE was older still) though by no means aged and slightly…unkempt, certainly not raging wild man disheveled but not what I expected of a king even after Henri's frequently less than ideal concept of personal grooming. Green hair flared in untamed tangles that verged on dreadlocks around a face not quite as fair as my own but there was certainly no mistaking the family resemblance. I did NOT shiver as he bade me rise and I looked into my father's mad eyes for the first time. The color of quicksilver, a color that predominated his enaid as well I noted, it even moved like quicksilver. Nasty stuff, quicksilver and so was the gaze I found myself under. Desire, not as a man looks on a woman but as a greedy woman looks upon a bauble that she intends to possess, as a glutton views the finest of filets after a month's fast. He went so far as to rise and circle like a shark. Lust for something far darker and more depraved than mere rape radiated from him, sometimes perfection is its own punishment. It's never easy being better than everyone else. My dancing instructor would have beaten better grace into me if I had ever moved so… inelegantly. I forced myself not to tense with him at my back and met the hatred in Neidr's father's, Unben Udd of Lofrudd, eyes with pure loathing fully exposed in my own. **

**With the slightest tilt of his head he challenged me and with a flicker of my eyes I accepted before my father settled back into his throne. Even as I struggled not to let it show I could feel my heart sinking. Looking at them as Unben leaned down whispering into my father's ear I knew without a shadow of a doubt what was wrong with Avalon. The only question was, was my father twisted beyond saving by the monster behind him or could he be salvaged if I slew Unben? And could Avalon afford for me to try? Where should my first allegiance lie? To my father or to my country both of which I had never seen until today? He had tried to kill me, more than once, he had killed every other sibling I had ever had, he had killed his own father, I should set my entire will toward his destruction, except, except, he was my father and damn it all I did NOT WANT him to be the monster I rather suspected he was.**

"**Since you are past your Defod" my father had a surprisingly pleasant voice that drew you, tugged at you, wooed you like a siren song. I blinked as it curled around me wanting to shake my head clear of the need to obey but knowing it would be the act of a fool. The maelstrom in my gut froze as I realized he wasn't even putting any power behind it and already it coiled around my will like a constrictor. Forget mardeths and the shades of dead Draigs, my father was the most dangerous creature I had ever faced. "tradition dictates that you pay your respects to your mother" He pointed at a red cap who visibly paled when he saw the direction my father had indicated "Take that way."**

**Unben's laughter followed me as I stepped through a door that instantly vanished leaving me face to face with the most persistent of my nightmares, Her, my aunt Eiluned and I belatedly remembered that no member of House Penthalion was ever presented to the Queens until after their Oed which was at least seventy years from now. Unben's mocking laughter…**

_I shook my head the image of the past shattered by the fact that it was the red cap's screams not Unben's laughter that followed…and I could STILL hear Unben! I whirled seeking desperately for Sparrow, and for Unben. Apparently Unben and his two score red caps found Pearl hysterically funny. I breathed a sigh of relief that none of them had spotted Sparrow as I wrapped him in Shadow and directed the Winds to keep him hidden and unaware. I wanted to spend the next several days peeling the flesh from Unben's bones a hair's breadth at time but first things first, he couldn't possibly have been foolish enough to come after me with naught but two score of red caps? Well wrapped in Shadow myself I sent the Wind to check for others as I strained my own senses. Two score of red caps and two score of pidwidgin. I was flabbergasted. It was insult to injury. Did He actually think I had fallen so low that **THIS** pathetic attempt would be enough to apprehend me?! I swallowed a roar of rage and instead set about picking off the red caps in small, quite groups. Nasty little creatures, red caps, thoroughly in love with murder and mayhem, it wasn't surprising at all that they were enthusiastic followers of His. Well, He wouldn't be getting this bunch back but what to do with the pidwidginii? I had no doubt they were here under the influence of a gorchmyn and I was loath to harm them. They were essentially impervious to Fire which negated my preferred method of containing annoyances until I saw fit to deal with them, Earth was out of the question even… before, dwarves and Earth where too closely linked even for Mannwan to pull caging them with Earth off, Wind would get distracted at the most inopportune of moments, but unlike Neidr, Unben had just enough talent for Water that he would know if I spoke to Sea. _

_I'd been lucky at the ceremony, he hadn't bothered to listen. Sloppy of him and sloppy gets you killed. I licked my lips in anticipation of what I would do to him. Did I care if he heard? Best to finish slaying the red caps first. The pidwidgin were a little away from the rest, simple enough to cut them off at the proper time. I crafted Shadows of the fallen, let Unben mock the Pearl, I would have the last laugh. I wanted him dead, slowly, ever so slowly, for Neidr, the son he had so carelessly tossed aside as collateral in a deal he had no intention of keeping and then DARED TO BLAME **ME** for his death after I nearly died saving him. My fury raged to be loosed on the sack of filth, for Neidr wounded to the quick and forced to choose between the father that had nearly killed him and the Prince who had saved him. My grief was as sharp as my rage, oh Neidr, what a pair we might have made if you had only confined in me. If only you hadn't committed suicide convinced that there was no way out of following in your father's footsteps. For Avalon, how much of the desolation of my kingdom was purely my Sire's fault and how much was Unben's was impossible to untangle. They were like two briers, producing nothing worth having and wounding anything foolish enough to blunder too close. And for myself, I knew that the difaenaid attacks that had shredded my soul and the carchar had been Unben's idea. Over half my LIFE locked in a box. Oh, but he needed to **pay** for all of it. _

_The red caps were dealt with far too swiftly to be even vaguely satisfying. I let the Shadows fade revealing the bodies of the dead, as Unben nattered on how the Pearl's wards look like inept fumblings of mutilated moron. Granted wards weren't my strong suit and I hell be damn sure wasn't at my best, nor were they a tenth as elegant as my usual work but I was more than willing to bet my brother's life that the ugly, ungainly things would hold THROUGH Jane's God's Judgment Day. It took Unben a full sentence to realize that his audience was dead before whirling to call the pidwidgin to arms. I knew they could move far more swiftly than they did, on my side as much as they could be then and Sea easily encircled them. Once this was over She and I would be having a little chat. She had promised a full blockade of Avalon so what in Jane's Hell were they doing here?_

_Unben smirked as I pulled Nimrais. There were no curses in the tongues of Ellyllon or dynol strong enough. Wards. The strength of wards diminished the more area they encompassed, clearly Unben was coward enough that he'd only bothered to protect himself._

"_Neidr admired your 'spirit'" he observed pointedly turning his back on me. **INSOLENCE, ARROGANCE** It was not to be bourn! It took every scrap of control I could muster not to fling myself at him. I'd spent more than enough time digging at his wards in the carchar. Vengeance was a dish best served cold, I could wait "the folly of youth" he said in a purr I had learned to dread in my Sire's torture chamber as he rounded to face me "you are simply too **STUPID** to know when to yield."_

"_**LOOK** at this disaster" he tried to sneer but a snicker escaped instead. I would have preferred the sneer "When you arrived in Avalon you would have screamed to the stars if anyone had even dreamed of associating your name with work this slipshod. Now it's the best you can muster. You would slit your own throat if you could truly see how far you have fallen."_

_I hated the fact that the words sliced through the bone because they were true. I was a shadow of what I had once been but hell be damned if I would lay down for anyone, least of all this piece of excrement. He **did** this to me and I will NOT let it go unanswered. He would NOT make me a scapegoat for Neidr. _

"_How it must **burn**, to have me this close and not be able to even touch me" his eyes glittered with malicious delight as he swaggered a little closer "or did the difaenaid strip you of that clever tongue?" His grin grew wider as he ran his own across his teeth "The King is MOST displeased and disappointed but this is ever so much sweeter" the fool reached out to actually touch Pearl's dark wood and got rolled arse over end for his folly, eventually landing in a sandy heap more than twelve yards down the beach. While I hadn't doubted it it was comforting to know that my work still had punch if not panache. Mind you I was rather…vexed about the distinct lack of elegance but despite my pride I wasn't so foolish as to put appearance before substance with my brother's freedom and life on the line. I snarled as Unben's own wards held firm. I had rather hoped if he was idiot enough to try to breech Pearl's that it would give me the opening I needed but as every other test had proven Unben was my better at wards. Ah, well, if it was easy anyone could do it. I was the Crown Prince of Avalon, I had a nation to save, revenge to take, and a brother to protect, failure was sloppy and unacceptable. Unben was sorely mistaken if he thought his skill with wards and a few score foot soldiers were enough to get him out of here alive never mind with me as a prisoner. _

"_Enough" he barked his tumble in the sand dispelling all **his** mirth whilst it was my turn to smirk but all amusement fled as he snapped he fingers and bade me come as if I was one of Mannwan's benighted red eared hounds._

_I merely glared, content for the moment to let him think I could not speak as I briefly toyed with the idea of using the gorchmyn to force him to drop his wards. The mere thought of wielding the gorchmyn took me to my knees, retching, with barely the presence of mind to disguise my weakness with Shadow, my hold on the waking world staggered and wavered and I clung with all I could muster. I couldn't leave Sparrow alone with this monster, not NOW, no, No, NO, **N**…darkness…._

…_light, or more accurately, inferno, Sparrow was rather diligently trying to convince me that we should do the bright work in a skull and cross bones motif. I reflected that the child had NO taste as I tried to fathom how precisely I had just turned Unben into a pile of ash given that I'd never successfully breached his wards before. I was admittedly a bit disappointed that I hadn't had the chance to properly torture him both for information and personal satisfaction. I firmed decided I wouldn't even try to puzzle out which I had wanted more. He had seen Sparrow when the boy's wishes had sliced through the Shadow hiding him like a sharp knife up under the ribs, now he would never tell a soul the boy lived. It was enough, or at least it would have to be enough, it wasn't nearly enough, not really but then nothing ever would have been, not for all his crimes. I thanked the Draigs Sparrow had dynol eyes and the Winds had remembered my instructions for once, my brother was blissfully oblivious but the pidwidginii had seen. I was going to have to kill them all. I was not doing well at becoming a kinder, gentler, me this time round. I could NOT do this in front of Sparrow even if he would never know a thing. _

"_Sparrow, would you like to take Peregrine and fetch the supplies we need?"_

_My brother blinked those huge brown eyes that were the undoing of my least day dream of being stern with him at me with a little surprised and thrilled gasp before demanding the list, ecstatic that I'd finally 'come te me senses aboot the fact that he was just fine all on his onesies.' I had most certainly NOT. I felt a brief pang of sympathy for all those I had snapped at through the years for similar sentiments. Of course I really HAD been able to take care of myself…_

Elizabeth paused as Jack's grinding teeth actually reached a pitch that drowned out the diary.

"Captain Sparrow" Norrington intoned as his most acerbic "there isn't much sand left in the hourglass."

Jack clearly bit down hard on a witty retort but stopped grinding.

_It was all I could do not to follow my brother as I committed him to Peregrine, Sea, and Wind. Peregrine and Sea I trusted implicitly to watch over him but neither could (safely) follow him onto the docks and Wind was so bloody fickle. I gathered my resolve and turned to the pidwidginii, if must be done best that it be done swiftly so that I could follow Sparrow post haste. _

_They bowed low at my approach and their Master begged "One boon, our rightful King."_

_How could I refuse? "Name it."_

"_The Usurper has bound us against you in life, let us serve you in death. Your fortress shall need guns and your Earth skills have been gravely diminished. Let us craft your guns, let our life's blood quicken them into lledrith, let us defend you and your brother beyond the grave."_

_Touched and humbled I bowed. Sparrow would truly have to look after himself for this would likely take a full fortnight. I sent a message with Sea to let Peregrine know to delay. Pearl was designed for thirty-six guns, I would have to add a couple of smaller guns fore and aft to make up the full count. I sent Sea to fetch iron ore from her depths and dropped down as close as I could come without rousing the gorychymyn that would compel them to attack me at every opportunity and began to speak with my subjects. One day I would return home in triumph, I wanted to know to whom the reward for their noble sacrifice should go but something deep inside coiled in icy dread. Sea's barricade was insufficient. Once they enlightened me as to how they had gotten here the gaping breach in my defenses was painfully obvious but it had never occurred to me that the Ellyllon created the Underhill simply by being there. It was perforce a very slow march but I had no doubt that these brave, loyal pidwidginii that would become the Pearl's guns, whose voices I would hear every time they were fired, were but the first of my own to fall in the battle for both my freedom and Avalon's. _

Jack winced and muttered "Sorry, 'bout that mates."

"Captain Sparrow?" Commodore Norrington inquired.

"Ah, well, I gave the guns names back when I was just a wee lad and…"

"I assume that they were disrespectful to the brave souls that swore to serve you" the Commodore had that 'there's something distasteful stuck to my shoe' tone again.

Jack raised his chin "I didn't know."

The Commodore's sniff spoke volumes. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and skipped several pages before smirking at Jack.

_I love my brother, Will, I really truly do. I would gladly lay down my life for him. But Jane's God about and Draigs below I COULD BLOODY **GLEEFULLY** strangle him. There were all of four people on the planet when the first murder occurred and I was feeling immense sympathy… for CAIN. My diminutive sibling is without a doubt the LAZIEST, MOST INCONSIDERATE, IMBICILIC, ** SLOB** it had ever been my displeasure to meet. The… the...the, Draigs Will I speak dozens of tongues and mere words fail, the BRAT has the crew teetering on the edge of mutiny. If I hadn't made certain that they were more than half terrified of Captain Mallory they would have already tried to maroon us. What WAS the little monster THINKING? Easily answered - he wasn't, he never did. If he had been real moron, it would be some much easier to forgive but the boy's wits were as sharp (or sharper) than my own. I surveyed the disaster that had previously been my cabin. One small boy should not be able to cause more havoc than a hurricane. He wasn't taking the loss of Marie-Anne well I reflected as I started setting the cabin to rights while trying to ignore the cold dread that anything 'sloppy' left in my guts. He wasn't the only one I reflected as I neatly folded yet another article of wildly scattered clothing. I still expected to hear her shouting orders up on the deck, could still pick up her scent in the mate's cabin next door, still **wanted** her so badly it burned. Fool, I hissed at myself, what was I bloody THINKING bringing her aboard? Well, truth told I hadn't brought her aboard. I dropped back onto sheets that so tangled one would think Neidr and company had had a chocolate induced orgy on them (and blast it all **I** wanted a girl, more specifically I wanted Marie-Anne. Draigs I burned for her. Marrying her off to someone else had been no easy task made ever so much more arduous by her eyes and enaid daring me, inviting me to take her. I couldn't, parts of my anatomy **stridently** disagreed, very well, MUST NOT. I was a Prince of Avalon even if I was not a hunted exile I could not marry a dynol and the thought of what a Wild Hunt might do to a lover left behind was enough to shrivel all desire.) rather than one small boy supposedly taking a brief nap since he insisted on taking a night watch. Oh Neidr, you damn idiot, what I wouldn't give to have you here. I sighed old grief distracting me from the more recent ache of shoving Marie into another man's arms. They would be much better for each other than we ever would have been. I pushed back out of the mess. Wishing that. Bloody hell, if wishes were horses the world would be heaped sky high in horse flesh. Ruminating in here got me no closer to figuring out what I was going to do about Sparrow before he got us all killed. I wasn't THAT keen to see Neidr again. Besides given what I had done to his wife and son I doubted it would be a happy reunion. I **had** done well by his only grandchild and his great-grand children before I went to Avalon. I'd sent Wind seeking his decedents but had heard nothing yet. I'd discovered in Avalon that it might NOT be too late for me to set his son free, that the Dark Lady might be…I shivered…if what I had uncovered was actually true. Draigs and Jane's God save us all. Did I dare call on her, him, it? to repair what I had destroyed as Draco? And at what cost? The rap at the door was both welcome reprieve and the knell of doom since now I had to decide what to do about Sparrow's latest foray into disaster._

_I made a point of turning my back to the door while keeping watch in the strategically placed mirrors. While they were a critical tool from maintaining my perfect coif (a quick check confirmed I was still fairest of them all. Physically the ravages of the carchar had been erased save for the worrisome fact that I looked the same now as I had over 80 years ago when I'd buried Bess. I suppose starving for 77 years could stunt one's growth but it seemed…off) they also served other nearly as important purposes. I kept the Shadow's eyes facing forward while my real ones watched the door. Sparrow entered first, sullen and pouting, with a murderous looking Mr. Kidd following hard upon. Clearly neither of them had ever looked at their current expressions in a mirror. Sparrow was a comely boy and Mr. Kidd by no means ugly but you wouldn't know it now. There were ways to convey displeasure without making oneself unattractive. I let the silence stretch while Sparrow fidgeted angrily. The boy clearly considered himself ill treated. Draigs! If it wasn't for my skill with Fire and Sparrow's own luck Pearl would have been reduced to so much charred timber and every man aboard but Sparrow knew it. _

"_I assume order has been restored in the magazine" it wasn't actually a question but Mr. Kidd's "Aye, Captain" was immediate and much more reserved than his expression. Clearly I needed to speak to young William about the use of mirrors. Sparrow knew but didn't care since he clearly considered himself unjustly abused. I decided that sword practice was in order after I dealt with Sparrow since the crew would expect nothing less than a marooning and I no intention of evicting my brother from his own ship. I disliked bullying but it was preferable to killing my own hand-picked men. This was the best crew afloat and it was no easy task finding the crew that was…appropriate. I needed more than a touch of honor in men who were willing to be pirates and they needed to be skilled or at least have the potential to develop them quickly. They had to be able to think for themselves but also instantly follow my orders. The Pearl's crew was a rare breed and one way or the other this was going to cost me some of them. Time to remind them that I could kill any and all of them at will. Damn. I preferred my lessons to be about improving their skills for the inevitable attacks every merchantman who eschewed a military escort risked rather than pure bloody intimidation. _

"_My thanks, Mr. Kidd, you may go. Oh no, Mr. Sparrow" I turned to glare at the boy. Basilisks cringed under the weight of my glare, Sparrow rolled his eyes. Of course, basilisks had far better sense than my more than slightly mad little brother. _

"I take severe umbrage te those remarks" Jack huffed looking in Mallory's general direction.

"And what, precisely, did you do Captain Sparrow to elicit such a reaction?" Commodore Norrington inquired archly.

"Do ye actually expect me te recall some minor incident o me youth that was obviously blown all out o proportion?" Jack shot back but I was willing to wager he knew exactly which mishap Elizabeth was reading about "Me darling Elizabeth as the Commodore pointed out I am not the point o this little stroll down memory lane, time and tide wait for no man so it would be expedient te set sail for more profitable waters as it were."

Elizabeth just smirked before continuing…

"_So, Mr. Sparrow, why exactly were you setting off fire crackers in the powder magazine?"_

Commodore Norrington sounded like he was choking on his wig.

"_Because that's where they have the most tumultuous effect." I was still considering a proper response to that when the boy sailed ahead. I had effortlessly manipulated kings, queens, popes, cardinals, guild masters, lions, draigs, and the natural forces of the planet itself but Sparrow was ship of a different build. He treated me to an explanation that involved excessive amount of hand waving as he tried to lure me around to his point of view. He had potential but he was no Nimrais or…Him though Sparrow had certainly inherited more of the sack of excrement that sired us' silver tongue than I had. As if the worm had simply been waiting for me to think of him he twinned his way about me._

_(You know what you have to do) _

_(You've long since flogged the flesh off that dead horse) I rebutted (I have no intention **becoming** a difaenaid myself.) The idea of ripping **anyone **else's enaid apart to patch the rents in my own was anathema much less Sparrow's. The thought of his eyes as empty and dead as the one's the journal recorded of my own when I was lost in the dark was enough to make me consider abandoning the boy to make the possibility moot. I loved the little scamp far too much to leave him to Fates' non-existent mercies or to whatever Wild Hunt He sent next. I had every intention of standing between my brother and all harm for as long as the boy would let me. _

_(You wouldn't hurt any more)_

_I nearly choked on a mirthless laugh (I'm not the naive child you trapped a century ago. You'll not find me half so easily taken. What do you want Nimrais?)_

_(Moi?) I wasn't certain what was more bizarre Nimrais speaking French or the air of wounded innocence he was trying (and failing) to portray. (I'm only trying to be helpful.)_

_(Draigs are predators) I reminded him thinking of the fable of the scorpion and the frog._

_(You know quite well that wise predators are concerned about the well being of their prey) _

_I'd spent enough time among the wild lions of the great African plains and cavorting with dolphins that I couldn't argue the point thought I'd never thought to hear that the Draigs ever gave it a passing thought. _

_(I know you hear them) _

_So that was his angle this time. The Winds of Avalon and the Winds of the Outlands normally had very little congress but since my escape I had been treated to a nearly constant East Wind. I had no idea if it had been Unben's parting gift to torment me or some subject's hope to inspire me to save them. Either way, either way, I knew what the current 'King' was doing to MY lands. They screamed, they wept, they called for me night and day, I was the prayer on their lips as they waited for me to save them. They haunted me and disturbed what sleep I managed to get._

_(I know it grieves you, that you burn to set things right) _

_Nimrais coiled tight and whispered like a lover (it is your place and purpose to protect what is yours. This is the hour for which you were preserved). _

_Instinct flared as the Draig within burned in righteous indignation. Hate. Rage. Desire. The need to destroy, to wreck bloody vengeance, to tear, to rend, to be bathed in the blood of those who dare to abuse MY lands and MY people was like liquid fire in my veins. I trembled caught between the drive to act and the impossibility of it. _

_(But it isn't, not at all. What you need is right here. Free your lands. Take your vengeance. They will remember your name until the end of time. Liberator. Savior. Just one little act and you can save them all.) _

_I could hear them begging. They'd been pleading for years. I was a healer as well as a killer. It was maddening. It was a lance to the chest. An ache to rival what he had done to my enaid. (How?) I would give anyth_

_(Wed the boy's power to your own) Nimrais' tone called me every kind of fool._

_Almost anything._

_(You know the prophecies) Nimrais snarled, enraged himself (It's his life or yours and if you fail to retake Avalon you father will destroy it and the Outlands above with it)._

_(No) I retorted, heart sick. (I couldn't)._

_(Not CAN'T) Nimrais thundered in a roar. Sparrow stumbled to a halt in whatever bit of nonsense he was uttering which would supposedly excuse playing with firecrackers in a room full of gunpowder looking confused. **NOTHING **excused playing with fire in a room full of gunpowder and I was the greatest Athro Tanio ever born. (WON'T)_

_(Won't) I agreed weary but adamant. _

_I could feel him distance himself (For the sake of a single half-breed child you would risk all? You are more unworthy that your father to take the throne). Nimrais' contempt was thick enough to slice as he vanished. I fought for breath. It shouldn't matter what he thought of me, it shouldn't, but it felt like someone had just opened up my guts and let them spill on the deck. _

_Pearl and Sparrow asked what was amiss simultaneously. If I hadn't been ready to rip something apart I would have laughed but once started I doubt I could have stopped. I left the Shadow of Mallory standing radiating haughty censure while I sank to the boards head in my hands thinking of as many of Melerie's sing-song nonsense verses that I could remember. **IF** Melerie was right there were essentially three possibilities. If he turned on me, it was over, I could never overcome them both, not as I was now, if I destroyed him myself I would be unstoppable, if we allied I might gain the throne but only at the cost of my brother. There had to be another way, I would MAKE another way. "I'm sorry, forgive me" I whispered to Avalon. Destroying Sparrow was the right thing to do, one life for hundreds at least and perhaps hundreds of thousands, but I couldn't do it. I was unworthy to be king but there was no one else._

"_Are ye alright?" Sparrow repeated. Was I alright?! I swallowed a tirade. No, no, I wasn't alright, I was in unremitting pain, I had a kingdom that desperately needed saving and I was saddled with a child who simply would NOT show a lick of good sense._

"_I'm fine" I retorted forcing myself back to my feet. I was the Prince of Avalon. Princes do not sulk, they do not wallow in self pity, particularly when they are free and their subjects enslaved. Now for another odious task, it was time for Sparrow to kiss the gunner's daughter. _

"_Get that shirt off" I said brusquely as he blinked those huge brown eyes at me. I couldn't fold this time. He'd gone much too far. The men believed it was a miracle he hadn't killed us all and Pearl, dear girl that she was, hadn't the wit to realize what Sparrow had nearly done. Poor Pearl, I'd failed her, strong as a blue whale, swifter than a sailfish, maneuverable as a hummingbird, but not the sharpest tool in the proverbial woodshed. Given that Peregrine was smarter than I and Revenge my equal it must have been a result of my decidedly less than ideal mental state during her construction. Regardless I worried about them when I left. More than once Peregrine, or even Revenge, had steered me away from folly. Somehow I doubted Pearl would ever be able to do the same for Sparrow and if anyone was in need of a steadying hand it was my little brother. I could see the same sullen anger forming in Sparrow's face that Skeffington had always inspired in me. No beating had ever done me any good. I was less than certain they ever did anyone any 'good'. It just taught you who had the power. That wasn't the kind of power I cared to have over my brother, not after the pleasure of our mutual Sire's attempts to teach me who was dominate our relationship. I glanced at my reflection, seeing weary, wary eyes. Eyes that had seen, been through, done, and dared entirely too damn much. Sparrow's eyes weren't shadowless. He'd spent too long on his own in Tortuga for that but hell be damned if I would do a thing to make them like mine and any man who expected it could take his leave and man who demanded it could face my blade. Truth told, most of the time I loved the boy more for the scrapes he got into than despite them. He made my heart glad and I laughed myself to stitches a half dozen times for every time I wanted to throttle him. I had no idea what I'd do without him to distract me from the damnedably bleak circumstances both I and Avalon were in. _

_There was still a valuable, and costly, lesson for Sparrow in this because actions had consequences. I stepped into the warm Caribbean sun. Part of me was still surprised and perhaps always would be to be free of the carchar. I drank in the experience that I would never, ever again take for granted, decades buried alive had seen to that, it was one of the few good things to come of the entire debacle. Small pleasures that I had all but ignored before I savored as I should have all along. There was an ugly murmur when Sparrow emerged behind me clearly still unscathed followed by a hum of dark anticipation. Sparrow, who was by far and away the quickest witted idiot I'd ever met, instantly picked up on the tone. _

"_Why is everyone so bloody upset?" Sparrow might swear magic didn't exist and that he didn't hear the Wind but I noted that that had absolutely no effect on his habit of using Wind to facilitate private conversations while we were in crowds. _

"_One assumes you are aware of the somewhat explosive nature of black powder" the question was rhetorical and for once I layered my disgust and annoyance in my tone._

_I received an irate "O'course" in reply._

"_So do they. Your poor choice of venue could have destroyed Pearl" a wince on that "and killed everyone on board" an indignant little huff. _

"_NOTHING happened"_

_I was one frustrated breath from snapping exactly **why** that was, of making it abundantly clear to him just who is was who kept plucking him back from the edge. I wasn't ALWAYS going to be around to catch him when he fell. I clamped my jaw shut NOT ready to set that tempest loose yet. I shivered remembering Henri's eyes the day he discovered I was an Ellyllon, his hate branded into what was left of my tattered soul. I wasn't certain what remained of my black heart could endure if Sparrow did the same. Troth, it was more than a bit pathetic just how terrified I was of the Brat's rejection. I was the bloody Crown Prince of Avalon, Heir of Sea and Fire, I had endured more torture and privation than Dante ever dreamed of in his Divine Comedy. I did NOT need the approval or affection of some fool too stupid to realize that playing with firecrackers in a powder magazine was a piss poor notion. _

_Once I'd mastered myself I rebutted "But it could have and they want you marooned to be certain you won't risk your comrades' lives so lightly ever again."_

"_What could o happened shouldn't matter" he mumbled petulantly. _

_Princes do NOT grind their teeth "You still intend to be a pirate captain don't you?"_

"_O course" he retorted rolling his eyes._

"_Pirate captains are ELECTED" I reminded him "granted successfully bringing in booty is the most important attribute of a pirate captain but the men also need to either fear you or trust you. Today you lost every man on board this ship's trust, mine included, and by not beating you within an inch of your life I've lost them too. If they didn't fear me we'd have already been put over the side in the ship's boat. If I were a pirate captain the Pearl would already be in the hands of another."_

_A flick of brown eyes followed by dawning realization that he had, just perhaps, not been quite as clever as he thought he'd been. If my little brother didn't start paying closer attention to my lessons he was going to find himself on a speck of land with a day's supply of food and water and a pistol loaded with a single shot a fortnight after I left this boat._

"And Mallory claims he isn't a prophet" Admiral Norrington noted dryly.

"My crew isn't in Davey Jones Locker" Jack shot back, eyes flashing "nor will ye find them fermenting mutiny."

"Then why is Anna-Maria needed to stand guard over Mallory if your crew is so trustworthy?"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen" Governor Swann broke in "please, if we could continue with the matter at hand." Neither looked pleased but both fell dutifully silent as Elizabeth turned a few more pages.

_I cursed writhing in the darkness, scrabbling futilely in an endless night courtesy of one Jack Sparrow who I was going to be sorely tempted to thrash if I ever found my way back out of here. My darling little brother might not believe in magic, might have no notion that my enaid was in more scattered fragments than a ship's sails after a hurricane but that hadn't stopped him from using my…discomfiture to his advantage. When he wanted something I would deny in my right mind, well, the no longer so little BRAT gave me a good, hard shove into my 'daft' one since he'd found me more easily led then. I howled in frustration KNOWING I was tantalizingly close but unable to bridge the gap back into the waking world whilst Jacky boy **wished** not. _

_There was no way to track time as such here in the dark but I had the nagging sense as I made another pass just below the surface that he'd held me here for WEEKS. A few years ago I'd have had no notion of who or what I was out in the dark but entirely too much practice was teaching me to 'breath underwater' as the saying went. DAMN HIM! Maybe, maybe I should explain, Sparrow truly didn't understand what he was doing to me and I wanted to believe he would stop if he did. _

_I 'shivered' in the lonely silent dark, darker even than the carchar for Ellyllon can generate their own light in a pinch and I was the Heir of Fire as well as Sea. But that didn't matter here in the long dark endless night of my shatter soul. In the carchar there might have been no voice but my own but at least I could talk to myself when the silence grew to be too much to bear. The endless night of my soul granted no such comforts. No way to call out in the slightest prospect of someone hearing (not that anyone would have dared in the carchar either but it was always nice to have a slender thread of hope). While he certainly had a great deal left to learn he was already older than I was when I'd faced my first mardeth. I would explain and…if I had had flesh I would have curled into a ball with ice in my veins. All my mind's eye could see was Henri's face when he learned the truth. My heart couldn't bear the same look in Sparrow's eyes. Better to endure, safer to stay silent, and hope that the boy didn't get himself killed before he let me back out into the light. Better to let him keep imprisoning me in ignorance than to discover he would choose to betray me._

_I blinked in the sudden brightness nearly stumbling "Captain?" Kidd sounded nervous and unsettled neither typical of my overly brash first mate. I stared at the Forte Michelangelo knowing exactly what building I was looking at but not quite able to convince myself that even lost in the dark I'd been stupid enough to let 'Jacky boy' talk me into setting course for Civitavecchia, as in Italy, as in Europe, as in so VERY, VERY **NOT** good. Speaking of 'Jacky boy' he was conspicuously absent._

"_Mr. Kidd?"I returned stepping free of the offered arm. Just what HAD my body done while 'Jacky boy' had my heart and mind shut out in the cold? A quick skim of the journal on my breast revealed that he was likely already in Rome, too bloody far inland for me to fly in and give him a little surprise. He had no idea what disaster he was courting bring us both here. Fear and frustration bubbled into anger which turned to seething, blinding rage. I wheeled sending the Winds scattering to find which merchant would give me the best prices for my current cargo and what was likely to fetch the most profit in Venice. To hell with cowering. I was sick of slinking like a whipped cur if He wanted us let Him come to claim us. Men stumbled out of my path as I stormed down to Pearl's berth where the crew unloaded the ship so swiftly you would have thought they were caught in double time with me. I waited, patiently, for the opportune moment to let the rage coiled in my chest strike. The terrified merchants practically threw money at me to get me out of their warehouse. With a heavy purse I rounded up the crew and paid them well. I considered following them into the several cuts above the typical Caribbean port town tavern but I didn't want good food, good wine (not that there was such a thing as far as I was concerned), and good company. I wanted to kill Him, baring that I wanted to kill SOMETHING, preferably something I wouldn't feel badly about when the rage passed. William Kidd, worried, tried to follow me down into the darkest warrens of the harbor but I lost him easily and then dropped my Shadow, disguising only my ear tips and slit pupils. _

_As expected it took no time at all for word of a lone boy wearing a king's ransom in jewels to find the kind of men who kill for a pence. At first they came in ones and twos. Kills far too quick and easy for my mood so I began to play with them. The pairs swiftly became bands and by moonrise the streets were empty, every cutthroat in Civitavecchia either cowed or dead on the cobbles. Blood still boiling I stalked into a 'tavern' I normally wouldn't be caught dead patronizing hoping my new made reputation hadn't followed me. Disappointingly it clearly had. I tossed a coin on the table and demanded a bottle of absinthe. _

_I paused bottle at my lips (there wasn't a glass clean enough to bother pouring anything into) but its contents untasted. This was rank folly served with a side of stupidity gone to seed. A mardeth could be overhead at any moment, Sparrow's most recent bit of idiocy had put him out of any hope of my reaching him, and I sorely doubted having me this close that He could resist sending the mother of all Wild Hunts against me. I had absolutely no business doing anything but sending someone to fetch Sparrow and getting us both out of the Mediterranean with all possible speed. I was the elder brother (never mind that Sparrow and I were physically essentially the same age) it was my duty to be responsible. I should leave this bottle on the table this instant and get back to the Pearl posthaste. _

_The absinthe burned all the way down. _

_What had being good, responsible, and decent gotten Jane? Beheaded Or Sandro? Shot through the head. Or Guiles? Murdered Or Will? Or Henry's whole bloody family? Chopped to bloody bits Or Milady Latimer? Poisoned by a man she would have died for Or Henri? Assassinated. I drew a ragged breath wishing for an instant that I could weep for too damn many friends who one and all had died too damn young and drank a long, long toast to them. The good had died young leaving only a twisted monster behind to mourn them and what had trying to do right gotten me? A shredded soul and a brat of a brother who despite being repeatedly told that sailing to Europe would risk my **LIFE** had taken it upon himself to get us both here anyway. He'd put himself in the damn fire and done everything in his power to make certain I couldn't save him from whatever disaster he dreamed up this time so to hell with him. For that matter to hell with Avalon. I shouldn't even bloody BE Crown Prince, I'd had six, count them, six elder brothers. One of them certainly would have made a better king than I ever would. All my hidebound, couldn't be bothered to give me a name because it wasn't PROPER, grandsire had to do was rescue them like he had me. Hell's bells as the King he'd had just as much right as my Sire to save his grandchildren. I should have been back in Avalon married to one of my seven sisters as the best Healer ever born, instead I was a lonely assassin drinking lousy absinthe (Bledri might not have drunk this swill. I wondered briefly what had become of Bledri) in an armpit of a tavern. There were several dozen Ellyllon and cyfae who could have nipped the entire bloody mess in the bud, but they'd all just let it happen and now they expected me to sort out their folly. Let them sort it out themselves and to hell with the throne. A little piece of me was howling in protest that I was being rampantly sloppy not to mention moronic and that I 'was born to privilege and I had specific obligations'. I did my level best to drown it with bottom of the barrel absinthe. That persistent little voice reminded me that absinthe had never solved a thing for anyone and my behavior was unbecoming to a gutter bred twelve year old much less the Crown Prince of Avalon._

_One of the doxies desperate for coin finally gathered the nerve to sidle over hips swaying so hard I was vaguely impressed she didn't tear asunder a-midship before she set her ample (and filthy) bosom on the table angling to give me an excellent view of her cleavage. Sparrow would be mightily impressed. Being good bit more discerning than my stag-in-rut brother I wasn't. On my better days I offered the doxies the same gallantry and courtesy I would a foreign queen since they received precious little respect from anyone else. Today wasn't one of my better days and I fastened a glare on her that lent wings to her feet._

_Absinthe makes piss poor company. Bledri was a fool. (And what does that make you?) that persistent little voice snipped nastily (don't you remember what happened the last time you were stupid enough to be less than sober?) I nearly drained the bottle trying to silence that voice and erase the memory of Neidr's suicide. I flipped another coin onto the table not caring that I could likely buy the whole bloody place with that much gold. Damn them all for leaving me behind. Hey, I was a necromancer, granted utterly untrained, but when had that ever stopped me?_

_Not ysbyrd, I'd had more than enough of death. Clearly I'd had enough absinthe to make me muddle headed because I simply could not seem to come up with a good spell. Hmm…how horribly vexing. What was that song Neidr had liked? Ah yes…_

_**Kind friends and companions come join me in rhyme**_

_Neidr's voice joined mine and every living soul but I hastily vacated the premises. I gave it an hour before the priests arrived to do an exorcism. Been awhile since I killed a cleric I was undoubtedly overdue. _

_**Come and lift up your voices in chorus with mine**_

_Given that this was an English drinking song, Sandro, Guiles, Gran, Milady Latimer, and Jane didn't join in, they hadn't sung it in life and the echoes I'd called up were just that echoes._

_**Let us drink and be merry all grief to refrain**_

_Easy for them, not so easy for me as Will, Jonathan, Henry, and James along with two score Old Blood servants, loyal and true, added their voices. I had to wince at Matt Blakes' (all four generations) complete inability to carry a tune in a bucket._

_**For we may or might never all meet here again**_

_Never, ever again. I sucked on the fresh bottle until I had to come up for air._

_**Here's a health to the company and one to my lass.**_

_Jennet joined him looking happy and whole and so deeply in love. I would NOT think about what I'd done to her as Draco, would not, would not. I'm so damn sorry about that. Will always insisted it was better to have loved and lost than to never loved at all. I doubted Bledri would agree. I looked for him among the Alltude but he wasn't there, still alive then, but Anuion was. Damn. How typical of my luck. Bledri who wanted to die was alive and Anuion was gone. I hadn't wanted to draw my Sire's eye to the Alltude so I had avoided even looking for them. _

_**Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass**_

_I took another deep slug of entirely too weak absinthe, heavy on the alcohol and light on the wormwood and given I could drink a barrel of alcohol without getting drunk..._

_**Let us drink and be merry all grief to refrain**_

_Now where the blazes was Henri? The annoying man never missed a party unless there was a woman involved. _

_**For we may or might never all meet here again**_

_Hated that line._

_**Here's a health to the dear lass that I love so well**_

_**Her style and her beauty, sure none can excel**_

_**There's a smile on her countenance as she sits on my knee**_

_**Sure there's no one in this wide world as happy as we**_

_I could only conclude I was a masochist, having no desire to watch my friends die I had instead called forth their moments of bliss, generally in the arms of someone. Milady Latimer was laughing at some witty comment of Thomas'. Looking at them now you would never guess he would poison her less than a year later. So much for love conquering all. The bottle was empty, why was that? Given that I'd frightened off the help I was going to have to go in search of another. The room swayed a bit, hmm, that was why the bottles were empty. I turned my back on Neidr and Jennet as he whispered in her ear making her flush and giggle only to have Bess and Eyes dance through me. Jane was the only ghost in the room without someone and she was deep in a book on theology which was as close as she was ever going to come to true love. I found another dusty bottle its color darker, almost ominous. A quick whiff when I popped the cork was enough to assure me that this bottle contained enough wormwood to be dangerous. I wondered how a bottle from Bledri's favorite suppliers had ended up in the back cupboard of this…place. Well this would certainly finish what the other two bottles had barely begun. That persistent little voice was kicking up a storm howling about how even Bledri watered down this absinthe. I settled back at the table and with the single swallow the voice of res, res, yeh, that, drowneded in a warm tingling rush. What this rev, revel, revelry requ, requ, bugger, needed was more music. I cast about for my cetera but it wasn't here. Henri wouldn't be happy 'bout that. Where was Henri? Henri never, nay, no, never, no, nay, never no more, missed a mer, merry, merrymaking. Never missed a lass either. I wanted Henri. I was the Crown Prince of Avalon and I DEMANDED his ghost atten, attend me. No Henri. If at first you don't, umm, ah, how did that go? I wanted Henri's ghost here NOW. I growled and PULLED. No Henri. I was a ne'mancer. It was against…something for a ghost not to, to, come when a 'mancer called. Did he hate me that much? I reached for the 'sinthe. I missed the bottle on the first three tries but I caught the sneaky bugger on the fourth and then the edges of the world faded while Bess and Eyes danced and danced…. _

"_What" a shake "Are" another shake "You" a slam against the back of the bench "DOING?!" the question ended in an ear splitting shriek._

"_Ssh" I laid the finger of the hand that didn't have a death grip on the 'sinthe against my, oops, I missed my face, what did it think it was doing dodging like that? "Y'll wake the neigh'rs"_

"_What neighbors?" she shouted. That did fascinating things to her chest. A good bit smaller than that first doxie, cleaner too. Pretty. My breeches were suddenly several sizes too small and I was breathless, enraptured. "You've raised every shade on the continent, we're the only living enaids for a mile in any direction. You shouldn't even BE here." She tried to wrap her hands into my doublet for some reason but the jewels encrusted across it foi, foiled her. She made an ex-as-per-ated sound and shifted her weight. I wasn't certain what the fas-cin-a-tion was with really buxom wenches, hers while not much more than a handful seemed more than fine to me. The paper thin cheap cloth teased me to lean forward and…she flushed, rocked back, and disappointingly, put the table between us in a quick scramble. A gentleman never forced himself on a lady, no matter how tempting. She seemed surprised when I didn't follow. Recalling my difficulties with my finger I focused all my attention on getting the bottle successfully to my lips. Someone plucked it out of my hand._

"_Don't you think you've had enough?"_

_Not fair, her holding the 'sinthe was almost more temptation than this tattered soul could bear. I blinked at her trying to pose a witty riposte but all my clever phrases practiced in a dozen courts had fled leaving me dumb in her rad, rad, um yeh._

"_Or maybe not" she returned softly and I (with difficulty) forced my eyes off that ex-quis-ite breast. Blue eyes color of the vault of the sky on a sunny summer day. They were too round to be Ellyllon, too pointed to be dynol, an adhil? She had too much power to be merely Old Blood but she was no Ellyllon. Sparrow was years younger and already stronger. Round ears, red blond hair that could use a washing but not hopelessly filthy either. If I'd seen a scrap of pity I'd have driven her off with flame lapping her heels but she mostly looked profoundly annoyed. The feeling was mutual. She'd been quite a beauty once. Preachers, priests, and puritans will tell you any 'fallen' woman is besmirching her soul, they aren't ENTIRELY wrong. Some women chose the life, if they're very fortunate they establish rewarding bonds with a handful of select clients and those were what colored their enaids no matter how many others passed through their beds. They thrived but they were rare. Most, whether they chose it or were forced into the 'profession', had enaids that looked like mud pies as they either eventually went catty, numb, or withered. A few, a few were like the woman across from me. Every encounter was an open wound. My enaid was in far worse shape but hers wasn't precisely thriving either and I was willing to bet she would be dead inside of the year if she stayed on her current course. She set the absinthe back in front of me. My head was rapidly clearing, ever since those poisoned arrows in my chest had left death just waiting for the slightest misstep I'd turned my healing talent into an ever-vigilant watchman which made it difficult to stay inebriated for long. That annoying little voice was back. She was adhil, she was in trouble, I was her Prince. I should be doing something. I didn't want to be involved. One good swallow and that voice would be quiet for a little while. Maybe even long enough for her to leave me in (relative) peace. And there was the other problem being roused by a woman astraddle had caused. I couldn't very well deal with that with her standing there glaring at me (well I could but there was enough of Jane's prudery in me to make me flush at the mere thought) and cloth of silver might be appropriate to my station but it wasn't ever going to be comfortable even when I wasn't…I forced my eyes back up because staring at her chest was NOT helping. I'd certainly been through far worse tortures (Unben carving off my original set to add to his collection of my fingers & eyes rather came to mind, well not precisely my eyes because he'd taken or rather my darling papa with Unben whispering encouragement had left my eyes for last). I didn't grind my teeth, it was unseemly, as the current set persisted in insisting that even if she wasn't as pretty as I'd first thought she was still MORE than pretty enough to…Damn it I was the PRINCE OF AVALON not some dog in heat or chocolate hazed whoremonger. I would **not **be ruled by my testicles. Usually making a point of reminding the current set what had happened to their predecessors was enough to have them heading for my shoulders via my…_

"Elizabeth!" Governor Swann's protest was a horrified squeak, his face as pasty as his wig with cheeks flaming scarlet "That will be more than enough young lady!"

I winced as I crossed my legs (as had Jack and Commodore Norrington. I wondered if they realized they'd inched back to back hands on hilts while Elizabeth had been reading with far too much relish.) That was precisely the WRONG tone to take with my wife.

"I'm the one that got the journal from Mallory and I'll read what I like."

Jack leaned over and whispered to Commodore Norrington "And now ye know the real reason she chose the Whelp over ye" while making a snipping motion. I rolled my eyes the joke was so very, very old. And somethings were never, ever funny.

"_You aren't going to sensible are you?"_

_I wasn't in the mood to be courteous but there was no call to be nasty either "Likely not."_

_She sighed. Who knew watching someone breathe could be so enthralling? Eyes UP! I had the distinct impression she found me irksome and in need of her assistance. As if! "Can the living join this revelry or would you prefer to simply continue wallowing in self-pity with your dead?"_

_I briefly reconsidered setting fire dragons on her before pushing the bottle in her direction "The more the merrier."_

_She drank more than was safe and when she put the bottle down I made a point of making certain that it was out of easy reach. I could handle its potency, I wasn't so certain about her. Adhil could be hard to figure, each one reacted differently. I had not intention of allowing another Neidr regardless of what else happened tonight.  
_

"_Grand-mere always said you were a prickly bastard."_

"_I resent the slur against my mother" I glance over at her shade. She looked slightly lost. I'd called up 'best memories' did my mother not HAVE any? That was just… tragic. If some necromancer ever called my shade and asked for a happy moment I'd have several hundred perhaps several thousand to choose from. I knew we hadn't been close in the year I'd danced just out of His reach (she insisted on cooking for me, it would have been cheerily domestic if I hadn't known all the way to my bones that if I'd let my guard down for an instant she would have been picking them clean and licking her lips afterward. If we had met at the proper time perhaps things would have been different..) but I'd made her laugh a time or two if there was nothing better…maybe? I suppose not. I tried not to feel disappointed, perhaps knowing her brother she hadn't wanted to care if that was even possible. She had hunted us too, not with HER determination but I had no doubt that my mother had been the one kill more than one of my siblings. The Draig ran much stronger in my mother and HER than Meleri. Meleri had loved me in her mad way. I kept my eyes on the table NOT wanting to see her ghost, not wanting to be reminded of what he'd made me do to the only member of my family who had ever cared for me._

Jack made a strangled sound of protest as Elizabeth hurried ahead.

_That wasn't fair, not to Sparrow who did care in his mad feckless way, and to my poor dear twin who I had abandoned to Her. I was suddenly glad Henri had somehow refused to behave like a proper ghost. I didn't need any further reminders of what kind of monster I was._

"Interesting" Jack muttered, "Very interesting." I glanced up at him but he was looking at Elizabeth whose eye suddenly lit. I wondered what it was the two of them had just realized. Commodore Norrington & the Governor looked as unenlightened as I was which at least made feel slightly better about not seeing what Jack & Elizabeth clearly did. Mr. Not Cotton was wearing his usual expression but his not parrot had been unusually quiet.

"_And your Grand-pere?" I knew her bloodline now, I could walk away but I'd need to get a lifetime supply of those bottles. _

"_He died before my father learned to walk."_

_I didn't bother to hide the wince, add another body to the butcher's bill. I should have known Anuion would never have let Henri die if he was still alive, my last order had been to protect Henri, Anuion would never have failed me like that. I took a sip of absinthe, just enough to take the edge off, well and truly tipsy not but no longer sloppy drunk, it wasn't an option anymore and with my own sigh of resignation asked "How came you here?"_

"_I don't matter" she retorted angrily "You do. Draigs what possessed you to come here just to sit in this pit drinking yourself insensible?! I heard you were INTELLIGENT, daring yes, arrogant, yes, relentless, yes, but no fool. THIS is the act of a fool."_

_I couldn't actually argue about my folly which was a shame because she flushed most becomingly when she was angry._

"_Since I'm determined to be a fool and you certainly can not stop me, what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" I really didn't need her to say a word since the truth was depressingly clear from her enaid. Less than four years ago she'd been a blushing bride in a good match, more than just lust less than true love but certainly the basis for a happy life. One problem, the tubes that ran from her ovaries to her womb were damaged. In her current state she couldn't conceive. So she'd been cast aside and shunned and turned into a whore. The only questions were the details – had it been her husband or his family? Looking at her I suspected the latter but one couldn't read everything from an enaid. If I was right and it was his family did he even know what had become of her? Was he looking for her? Remarried? Those answers were critical to any plans for helping her. I dispatched several breezes to collect what they could._

"_I told you I don't matter" she snarled back. Oh, but she needed to work on that it made her terribly unattractive – what if her face really did freeze like that someday?_

"_I say you do and I'll not budge for the King himself" an absolute lie but she'd never know "before you speak."_

_Chin high but eyes damp she waveringly spilled her tale of woe. It was the mother-in-law who in her quest for a grandchild had arranged a kidnapping and shamed by both the brutal rapes and her barrenness she'd never even tried to go home to…Venice? What was she doing married to a Venetian? I marshaled another batch of breezes. I could easily heal the initial cause of her problems but would she want that given her current predicament? _

"_Would it please you, milady, to go home?"_

_She was no lack wit, she instantly realized both that I was offering to heal her and to rectify the situation back in Venice. She was undoubtedly well aware that I was capable of permanently handling the mother-in-law question. She blinked, stunned, a single tear cleaning some of the dirt from her lovely cheek. _

"_My liege is far too kind but I am already beyond hope. If you will grant me a boon then go, now, ere a Wild Hunt arrives."_

_I leveled the glare that sent everyone but Sparrow scurrying for cover. She swallowed but held my gaze. It was a damn shame I shouldn't bed her I suspected it would do us both more than a little good. Given that that was out of the question and I certainly had no intention of leaving port without my brother the wise course would be to retreat to the Pearl posthaste and weather whatever came under her wards. There were two problems with that, first and foremost Sparrow (presumably) intended to return from his little foray at some point (the boy would follow the Pearl to the ends of the earth I sometimes doubted the boy would give me a second thought once he was captain…_

"Hold that thought" Jack snapped, plucking the journal from Elizabeth's hands "while I give me brother a piece o' me mind."

"Do honestly think you have any to spare?" I was surprised Jack didn't even bother to acknowledge Commodore Norrington's barb while Elizabeth rolled her eyes before whispering "Wouldn't it be more satisfying when he's AWARE?" so softly I could barely hear sitting next to her but Jack paused mid-swagger and tossed the journal back growling "I wasn't bloody ungrateful, I wasn't bloody thoughtless, and I didn't bloody forget about Mallory."

"Indeed?" it was amazing how many different shades of meaning the Commodore could fit into his favorite word. This one was positively scathing disbelief. My own eyes widened as Jack rounded on him, suddenly straightening and taking on an accent every inch as lordly as Mallory's "Commodore Norrington I am **Captain** of the fine vessel you find yourself aboard and even if it was a dory I would STILL be **CAPTAIN**. Given your position in Her Majesty's Royal Navy and your illustrious pedigree you are well aware of the respect my position deserves and you will accord me that respect or you will find yourself being towed in said dory."

Commodore Norrington flushed crimson but his gaze dropped first while Elizabeth lost no time returning to her reading.

_regardless if I retreated to the Pearl I might well find a besieging army if our Sire moved swiftly between us and even battered as I was Sparrow was by far the frailer of us and ignorant of the danger besides. I toyed with the bottle as I was once more torn between the need to appraise my brother of the full dire circumstances of our existence and the desire to shelter him for as long as possible. Sparrow was only fourteen, time enough later. (But not much) that little voice whispered (not long at all until he's grown and gone). I took a long pull of absinthe NOT wanting to think about it. _

_(Not if he gets you killed or captured first) Nimrais gloated (Not a thought in his empty head for anyone but himself and how often he can mate) being physically the same age I could sympathize even if I couldn't join him in his rabble rousing. I growled a curse at our Sire. Sparrow and I could have had a decidedly different relationship if I had really just been a young Crown Prince on a Taithe. The burn of the absinthe was nothing compared to the inferno of rage in my gut. Alaetha (not the name she'd been granted at birth but I was hardly one to quibble about giving oneself a name and what a pair we made 'ill-fated' and 'lamentation') made a disapproving sound so I took a second swig, guzzling 'til the room spun while I was sitting. Damn disconcerting. I restrained a shiver not liking that at all, sloppy and sloppy gets you killed. To hell with that. To hell with caution. To hell with responsibility. To hell with reputation. Which was the second reason I couldn't go back to the Pearl yet. Captain Mallory had a reputation which given the current condition of my enaid I could ill afford to tarnish, for being sober, serious, and wise. I was not the sort of man that men follow out of love, the best I could hope for was respect and fear. Draigs that was depressing. I wrapped myself back up in the shadow of Captain Mallory. I had work to do and no time for lollygagging but I kept my hand wrapped 'round the bottle anyway. _

_I worried about Sparrow when he became Captain, he had no desire to lead as I did and I had never mastered whatever special alchemy it was that wooed the hearts of men. Oh there had been a rare few who were loyal to my person rather than whatever position I held but certainly never an entire crew or even a tithe of one. There was of course the purely mercenary which I coupled with my ability to inspire fear, while I never raised a hand to any who followed the ship's Articles I was a terror to violators. I paid my men regularly and well. Granted not the fortune they **might** earn as pirates (WOULD earn with me as Captain, the Draigs and Jane's God my witness but I had a knack for piracy) but without most of the risks as well. I'd never lost a man to poor sailing and only a few to raids. Men knew that when they sailed with me they would get regular pay and had the better chance of coming home alive than with any other captain afloat. Sparrow had no lack of wit and given his magical bent more luck than any mortal had a right to but Sparrow wasn't necessarily after loot, he was after a reputation and well… I sighed – what was going to become of Sparrow when I turned my full attention back on Avalon? _

_(So you do recall that you have a realm to rescue) Nimrais snipped nastily, I ignored him. If he kept the crew I would be leaving him he should be fine but dynol aged faster than adhil and at some point he would be making his own selections and Sparrow…did not make the wisest choices of companions. One stalwart companion could make all the difference among a crew if he was the kind of man the others would respect, ideally someone just a touch older than Sparrow (and with a good bit more common sense)…_

_(Stalling again) Nimrais hissed (Lie to yourself if you must, mayhap you've thought it so often you even believe it, but I can sense just how close your Sire came to breaking you and just how much terror there is under all the hate and rage. You may claim to love the boy all you like but we both know that if you drained him and wedded his strength to your own you would have no excuse to dally here but would be obligated to face your Sire forthwith. I've watched you since you were a hatchling and I never dreamed I would ever have cause to name you a coward, until now.)_

_The waking world wavered like the Sahara on a particularly hot day, recognizing the signs of my enaid crumbling around me I tried…darkness…_

"_M'liege? Alaetha frowned clearly uncertain what had happened but understanding something was seriously amiss_.

I shivered. As Elizabeth had flipped pages I'd had impressions of how 'together' for lack of a better term Mallory was. A little more than half the time he was himself, of the time that he spent 'in the dark' he was usually close to the surface often able to sense Jack, the Pearl, Sea, and the Peregrine even if he couldn't quite reach them. This was bad, the worst I'd sensed since he'd been brought forth from the carchar. I wondered if Nimrais had done something or if this was a result of one of Jack's wishes. A glance across the cabin revealed that both Jack himself and Commodore Norrington had had the same thought. The Commodore appeared to be in serious danger of swallowing his own tongue while Jack looked like he might prefer a good tongue lashing.

The haunts had vanished the moment Mallory had fallen apart and Alaetha's eyes flicked to the door in alarm.

"_M'liege" she gave Mallory a hard, desperate shake but got no response of any kind. She tilted his head so she could look into his eyes and let out a string of curses that would make a pirate blush. _

Jack looked impressed while Commodore Norrington and the Governor looked mortified. I suspected Elizabeth was taking mental notes.

_She whirled as the rickety tavern door disintegrated under the mere approach of the watch. The soldiers were skittish but they clearly feared their commander more than whatever uncanny power had raised the haunts. _

Their captain wasn't the great hulking brute I was expecting. He was the kind of courtier Mallory despised most – a true fop, a useless ornament, just like the beautifully bejeweled but utterly useless blade at his hip. This was a man who was far too much of a coward to risk his own life others would do **all** of his dirty work whilst he sat like a spider in the web. His long fingers even looked spider-like. He brushed back blond lockes whose color had more to due with a generous application of lye than with his natural coloring if his brows were any indication. The fact that I'd notice meant I'd been spending far too much time in Mallory's head. I wondered who the soldiers were actually afraid of.

"_Alphonso?!" Alaetha's eyes widened in shock and I sincerely hoped this wasn't her missing husband. _

_He gave her a mocking bow that was shabby seconds indeed compared to Mallory's. _

"_Gwynyth, how delightful to renew our acquaintance" he purred as he minced across the dirty floor in a manner eerily reminiscent of Mallory. He made a moue of distaste "my carriage would be far more comfortable – shall we? Unless you'd prefer to wait for the Inquisition" His smile was as warm as a shark's._

"_What did you do?" she snapped in an angry growl._

"_Gwynyth, you wound me. After all the trouble I went through to find out where Mother had abandoned you."_

I didn't need Mallory's talents to know he was lying, at the very least he'd known precisely where she'd been the entire time and it wouldn't surprise me to learn he was behind her plight.

"_I never would have expected you to wait so long to show your true nature, nor was I led to believe you would be a necromancer."_

_Gwynyth's mouth dropped open much to Alphonso's amusement. "Oh my dear little half-breed, do you really think I would have suggested you become my bold brother Anthonio's blushing bride without some notion of the advantages you would bring to the family? I confess I was hoping for a quiver full of youngsters bearing talents that could an asset to the family" he sighed dramatically, bejeweled hands on hips "Your barrenness has been SUCH a burden. I had SO been looking forward to nieces and nephews, and Tonio has done NOTHING but brood since your death."_

"_Death?"_

"_Honestly we couldn't very well get Tonio properly remarried with you still alive now could we? Imagine the scandal" he flung his glittering hands wide, "My heirs would be sullied."_

"_Your heirs?" Gwynyth echoed, confused._

_Alphonoso fluttered his kohl lined eyes, and was he wearing eye shadow? _

"_Well, Magno certainly isn't going to get me with child, not that he doesn't try diligently" another flutter as he cooed to someone of the edge of Mallory's fixed line of sight. But when his eyes turned back to his sister-in-law they were icy cold, "What AM I to do with you?"_

_After waiting a few beats for dramatic effect Alphonso chirped "No suggestions? Well, I've a few thoughts." He gestured for her to join him, when she hesitated he arched a brow in the direction he'd been cooing earlier. _

A few seconds later I felt a stab of envy as Elizabeth gasped in appreciation as a lion of a man passed through Mallory's fixed gaze.

He dwarfed Alphonso both in height (he had to be close to seven feet tall) and bulk but this was no muscle bound hulk, I knew a swordsman when I saw one. Most big men lacked the speed to be truly great I suspected this one would mop the floor with me. Hansom enough to model for one of the planters statues of a Greek god with golden hair and a few small scars which just made him look dangerous without actually marring his face. My wife was far too drawn to dangerous. I shrugged given his proximity to Mallory the man was probably long dead and uninterested in women anyway.

_Magno's pale brown eyes begged Gwynyth to comply, clearly not wanting to force her but also having every intention of doing whatever his lover ordered him to do to her as well. _

_Magno gave her a bow almost worthy of Mallory's standards "Won't you please accompany us, milady?"_

I'd been expecting a voice so deep it would rattle your bones but he had a very pleasant tenor (and likely a fine singing voice).

_Gwynyth flashed a pleading glance at Mallory but he remained as empty as when the carchar was first opened. Magno caught the glance and signaled his men "Take him."_

Jack was clearly as stunned as I was when Mallory allowed himself to be herded as placidly as a thirty year old plough horse. Elizabeth skimmed ahead. The view of mountains out the carriage window was bouncing more than a ship in a hurricane – was there an earthquake?

I realized when Alphonso hissed _"What is wrong with him?" _at Gwynyth that the problem was Mallory. I'd only seen someone having fits once before but that was clearly what was happening. Maybe they'd gotten too far from Sea?

"_Get him out of here" Alphonso ordered Magno._

"_But fits aren't catching" Magno protested._

_Alphonso squealed as Mallory flopped into him like a gaffed fish "Out! OUT! **OUT!**"_

It was difficult to really see anything with Mallory's eyes rolling in his head like marbles in a barrel but Magno looked apologetic as he tossed him like so much garbage out of the moving carriage. He crunched when he hit the ground without even trying to cushion the impact, then rolled through the brush down a steep bank, continuing across a second road (or given the steepness of the grade perhaps just across an earlier switchback). His downward plunge was finally stopped with a bone breaking crack against the unforgiving trunk of a pine tree. Mallory lay like the dead through the day as at least a half dozen travelers passed within a few feet of his resting place. I wondered if they could actually see him from the road or like the parable of the Good Samaritan were they just leaving him there?

I flinched as the setting sun filled his unblinking eyes but the blinding light faded quickly leaving a blackness darker than any I'd ever known which was odd since I could distinctly feel the warmth of the not-quite-down sun on his face.

"_And bloody well STAY out!" someone shouted as by the sound of things a second body followed roughly the same course down the hillside that Mallory had. There was a distinctly masculine groan/grunt as he landed on Mallory. _

"_Thank ye kindly" Jack muttered as he caught his breath back to back with Mallory "and I beg yer pardon for the churlish manner in which I made me intro…" Jack's voice trailed off. _I was a little surprised it had taken so long, Jack was usually much more observant_. He made quick work of snapping up Mallory's purse. I counted two footfalls before he muttered "No, no there must be hundreds o' bags like…" He frantically picked at Mallory rolling him roughly over. _How Jack could NOT realize he had his hands knotted in bejeweled clothe o silver was beyond me.

"_Ye are NOT allowed te die on me" Jack growled sounding positively Draigish. _The power of the wish that accompanied those words would have dropped me to my knees if I'd been standing_. Nimrais' roar of triumph as he reached for Jack changed to one of rage as Mallory's presence swept back from wherever he'd vanished to and interposed himself between Nimrais and the waking world. _

"_**Not** for you! Not **EVER** for you. As long as I" **gone**? Nimrais had retreated. Why? The fight hadn't even **STARTED** and while there was no denying that I was a power to be reckoned with there was no reason to assume that victory was a given versus the shade of **Nimrais**. Granted I was good but **no** Ellyllon tangled with Nimrais' wraith without significant risk. Ergo Nimrais had ATTCHIEVED whatever this little farce was intended to do. But what? Why? Nimrais was no closer to laying a claim on Sparrow and Angnar was still ignorant of his existence. _

"_Damn ye BREATH" Sparrow hit my chest hard enough to shatter three ribs and I reflexively sucked in a breath. Honestly, I was **only** mostly dead. There was no need for all the bloody drama (though I probably should have let Jackie boy stew over things a bit longer). I drew second breath NOT wincing as the broken shards grated against one another. Hell and damnation, far enough ashore to make a healing difficult so it was blind eyes, broken ribs, and a broken left shoulder for at least a bloody mile. I'd fought with worse and laughed. I rolled to my feet leaving Sparrow sputtering in my wake. What had Nimrais gained? There was no question that I would be sailing for Venice. I could not leave Anuion's grandchild in peril but I had no doubt Nimrais would have several scathing comments to make about my intent to rescue her. No this wasn't about so half breed child of a noble house. The Draigs barely acknowledged the rights of the Royal Houses (or House since the other two were long fallen and the land they once rules drowned deep under Sea). This was about Sparrow and I. I stopped in the road giving Sparrow a chance to scramble back alongside me. I never would have expected Sparrow to pack that kind of raw power into anything. Not that my brother at fourteen wasn't the most powerful half breed (of any age and that with a fair bit of growing left to do) I'd ever met but he still couldn't rival the power of a pure bred noble but that wish would have surpassed anything I'd have been capable of at his age. Something had given that wish a boost in power. Something Nimrais needed me 'away' for. Something the journal hadn't picked up on. And now that wish was loose in the world doing Jane's God (given that he existed) knew what. I swallowed hard. Desperate and guilt-stricken Sparrow had placed no limits on that wish – given Meleri's prophecies my little brother might very well have signed his death warrant._

_He snagged my arm, spun me round to face him, and still reeling under the implications of that wish I stumbled going down on my knees in the road. I wasn't Meleri **I** had **NO** power of any kind over time and even I could feel that wish racing backward and forward through it. All those times I really truly SHOULD have died, when even I couldn't fathom why I was still alive, Sparrow's wish had been the life line that bridged the gap. I wondered if that paradox is what had finally sent Meleri over the edge into full blown insanity. Without Sparrow's wish I definitely would have died three times before I ever met him perhaps more, without Sparrow's wish he'd have never survived long enough to wish it. It made MY head ache and had the hairs standing up on the back of my neck what must it have done to a temporal mage?_

_My broken shoulder did a wonderful job of reminding me of the present when Sparrow shook me. Eww. I was LYING in the road. Granted everything was going to need to be laundered from the tumble out of coach but that was no reason to get even filthier. I started to roll to my feet but Sparrow's hand on my chest set those broken ribs shrieking. I, of course, gave no sign. _

"_Just rest a moment" Sparrow's voice had a strained note to it. Damn what was wrong? Sun-blindness was becoming distinctly annoying. _

_I swept his hand away with my right and surged to my feet ignoring his sound of protest only to nearly crumple right back into the dust. This made no sense. I wasn't THAT hurt. Certainly not hurt enough to swoon in the bloody road like some overwrought damsel in distress. Not far enough inland for the damage to my enaid to be sufficient to st…oh bloody hell. Well, now I knew where the extra power had come from. Something had run me nearly dry here and now in order craft those bridges in the past and one assumed future. My own power scattered through time. And not by Nimrais, Nimrais had simply been trying to take advantage of an opportunity arranged by someone else. Had Nimrais **FLED** in the face of this other? Knowledge was power and I knew nothing save whoever, whatever had maneuvered us into this position favored me to the detriment of my brother. It more than stung it burned. I had played to courts of Europe for a generation. I was NOT supposed to be played myself. I was the Prince of Avalon! Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy and sloppy gets you killed. Or in this instance gets your brother killed under a sun that has yet to rise. No, NO, **NO!** I had time. I'd figure a way around this. _

_I needed to get Sparrow back to the Pearl and I needed to do it now. I was tempted to send him ahead under the pretense that I needed assistance getting back but my pride wouldn't let me. That and the fact that I didn't want him out of arms' reach. We were leagues away from the Pearl and I'd no notion of what was abroad tonight. My ears flicked in his direction trying to place what he was doing by the sound of his movements, thankful for both Cromwell and Mannwan's insistence that I drill blindfolded at least two hours a week. Ripping clothe? Bandages? I clicked a few times to take the measure of our surroundings. It wasn't nearly as easy to do in air as it was in water and I wasn't QUITE as good at as a bat but I could certainly navigate my way off this bloody hill and back to the port._

"_I'm not wounded" I said over my shoulder letting the echoes of my footfalls guide me safely away from the steep drop off an arm's length to my right. Turn in three paces to avoid going off the edge of the switchback... _

"_No" Sparrow snapped behind me "ye just have a shattered shoulder, broken ribs, ye can't see a blooming thing, and ye're a listing a good five degrees te starboard." _

_I turned raising a challenging brow that his dynol eyes likely couldn't see in the dark. Only a crescent moon tonight, Sparrow would be nearly as blind as I was._

"_Yer clicking, ye have" a pause and a softer tone, almost the one I used with skittish horses "ye **had** excellent night eyes. Ye're blind."_

"_They'll heal" I riposted harshly, annoyed, proud, and slightly uneasy that he'd figured it out so quickly. "We need to get back to the Pearl."_

"_At least let me bind the shoulder and ribs" he protested._

"_No time" I pivoted, clicking to ascertain how many paces until the next switchback. Rut in the road in four paces, next turn in twelve. _

_A breeze carried the sound of grinding teeth, music to my ears. I couldn't help smiling with a touch of admittedly petty glee knowing in my own way I drove him every bit as mad as he did me._

"_I already have the sling ready. It won't take much more than a minute" more grinding "Ye don't have a bloody thing te prove te **me**. I **KNOW** yer the roughest, toughest captain te ever swagger across a deck and I'm sure ye could fight yer way through a legion right this instant. We'll take it off before anyone sees. Ye can pretend ye aren't in bloody agony but I've broken bones. I KNOW better. Please don't make me watch ye walk the entire way back with that arm pulling on it."_

_I paused. Never, **EVER** let them see you bleed, never let them know it hurts. Not ever. But whatever was pulling the strings tonight already knew. Did it matter if I let Sparrow have his way? Probably not, except Sparrow wasn't a child anymore. My Shadow didn't match the real me. Letting myself be touched always carried the risk that the differences would be noticed. Who was I trying to fool? Sparrow had himself so convinced that certain things simply couldn't be. I could probably perform Hamlet Shadowless in the nude in front of him and he'd think of a way not to notice. I sighed and stopped. _

_I could FEEL Sparrow glaring at me even if I couldn't see it before he proceeded to prove that not all my lessons had been in vain. I couldn't find a single flaw in his method as he wrapped my arm and ribs effectively and efficiently causing minimal pain for maximum benefit while keeping up a constant prattle of inanities at just the right pitch to sooth and lull the mind. He had actually been listening on occasion._

"_Poison again?" he asked and it took me a breath to register the question. Sloppy, desperately sloppy. I was thick and muddled all the way 'round tonight. Not poisoned but not right either. Oh, bloody hell. Tipsy. I'd still been tipsy, still was tipsy, or actually a bit more than tipsy now that what strength I had left was all focused on keeping the lit fuse in my chest from killing me. I shook my head not certain if he would be able to see in the weak moonlight or not. My breath had to REAK of the alcohol the wormwood had been mixed with but it would never occur to Sparrow that I was more than half drunk. It didn't fit with the somber, sober Captain Mallory he knew._

_I did NOT sway as I started back down the road. Sparrow heaved a long suffering sigh before falling in to my right. Or perhaps he hadn't been paying attention at all. I considered making a point of putting him to my left but I was reasonably certain that whatever was playing games with us wasn't intending a physical attack, at least not tonight, and there was no Wild Hunt within range of my senses._

"_What happened?" Sparrow's tone was a challenge._

"_Nothing" I replied not even bothering to come up with a creative lie. I'd TOLD Sparrow that sailing to Europe would put my life at risk. He'd chosen to find a way to get us here anyway. I felt my earlier anger and resentment flare back to blazing despite the worry that the life he'd ended up laying on the line was in fact his own. _

_He counted to ten in Mandrin under his breath, "I thought ye were dead back there" a hard swallow and the next in a near snarl "did ye stage that?"_

"_No." Draigs I was drained and tired enough to sleep on my feet. Only the knowledge that SOMETHING was stalking us was keeping me awake and moving. We needed to get back to Pearl and Sea. I felt the anger slip away, I was too bloody tired to do anything but concentrate on listening to the echoes so I didn't tumble off the edge of the road and break something else._

"_I'm sorry. I should have bloody listened."_

_I missed a step in shock. My shoulder reminded me that that wasn't a good idea and besides it was undignified and a prince should NEVER be undignified._

"_Please let me help."_

"_Never" Not ever, ever, ever. _

_This time his count was in Gaelic. Ah, so that was Sparrow's game. I had to do some counting of my own. I didn't like attempts to force my hand under the best of circumstances and these weren't the best of circumstances._

"_Not your affair, Sparrow" since thinking I was dead had spooked him I'd give him a bit of truth to chew on "the only way I'd ever let you get tangled in this net is over my drowned, burned, ground to ashes, and scattered on the wind bones."_

_I heard him gulp and then push forward. Draigs but the boy did NOT know when to quit but then neither did I. "Don't ye think that's my choice te make?"_

"_No." Time for a change of subject "So it's been years since I've been to Rome, how is the Queen of Cities?"_

_Sparrow was silent a moment probably counting in his head this time before starting to regale me with his latest set of near misses and improbable events, I was completely unable to resist a fond smile. Some things never change and no one could get into and out of trouble like my little brother..._

"_We should probably take that sling off soon" Sparrow murmured in my ear sounding inordinately pleased with himself. Huh? _

_I blinked, then blinked again as the night came into sharp focus. We were little more than furlough from the Pearl. I snatched the arm that had been draped across Sparrow's shoulders back and put several swift paces between us, heart hammering triple time in my chest. Granted I'd been tired, tipsy, and injured but Sparrow should never have been able to lull me so thoroughly. Close enough to support me the entire walk back without me even NOTICING was close enough to slip a knife up under your ribs a thousand times. No one was EVER supposed to get that close. Not ever. Trust. NO. ONE. Be. Eternally. Vigilant. Sloppy. Gets. You. Killed. I shivered again half expecting the beating I richly deserved for being so sloppy._

_Sparrow's brow furrowed, the thin, weak moon not giving his dynol eyes enough light to see much more than silhouettes. I tossed him the now useless sling and nodded in the direction of the Pearl not trusting my voice. I made certain to keep him in front of me the rest of the way to the ship as I fought to calm my racing heart. Sparrow's own enaid was looking ragged 'round the edges. The boy had no idea how tired he really was. Once he sat down I wagered he'd sleep the clock round if not more. _

"_Take her out with the tide, Mr. Sparrow and sail south along the coast" at least I'd kept my voice steady and made Sparrow's whole week I nodded to Mr. Kidd before locking myself in the captain's cabin. Sparrow would be far to busy bossing everyone around on deck to come down here. The excitement of being in charge would keep him up for a few more hours before he folded up. I threw myself into the far corner chair where I could keep an easy watch on both the doors and the windows. Act don't react I spat at myself. This debacle must never be repeated. **Plan.** Don't ever let the opposition dictate your moves. I carefully striped off my ceremonial dress, secured a piece of sail cloth and slipped on spare ring before taking flight._

_I wrinkled my nose (why must prisons always reek so?) as I pursued the list of prisoners due for a flogging. Twenty-four lashes for stealing an apple? A touch harsh. Mind you in lean times I'd seen it earn a death sentence. I looked up at the cell numbers and then at their occupants. Actually it might as well have been a death sentence because the starving little waif wouldn't have survived four lashes never mind the score to follow. I studied his enaid for a moment, after all it had been a very long time since I had been a proper Changeling. _

"_Go" I told him as bemused brown eyes flickered between me and the open doors. I dropped the ring in front of him "and have a whole cart load of apples." It felt decidedly odd to be playing someone shorter and physically younger than myself. I pulled the cell door back into place and settled in to wait. I'd rearranged the order so I'd be the first one flogged but the local judiciary didn't seem to be in any hurry. The crowd did look a bit thin yet but they did look enthusiastic. This was going to be decidedly unpleasant but then that was rather the point. It would have been both swifter and more efficient to do this to myself on some snatch of an island than this. If someone under my command had pulled the stunt I had yesterday I'd have had them flogged and dismissed so fast they would have met themselves on the way. How could I hold myself to a lower standard? Aside from the shed blood I was planning to collect on the sail cloth and then have wind scatter across the Continent (since there was no reason to make it EASY for the Wild Hunt to find me until after I'd rescued Gwynyth) the beating was irrelevant. I'd had far too many for even a hundred lashes to impress but the public humiliation of standing there and taking it especially while playing at being a gutless little street urchin like the one I'd just set free. I was going to have to pretend I couldn't handle it. I was going to have to whimper and squeal while being laughed at by the crowd. Oh this was going to be extremely unpleasant. Speaking of the crowd the muttering had just spiked. The wind brought me a whiff of just what was in store. I loathed public floggings. The peasantry could always be relied upon to show their true base colors. _

_I'd bathed thrice a day since the flogging & I still felt filthy but Sea and Wind had done a marvelous job with the blood I'd shed. Anyone seeking to track me would be turning in circles around the entire Med. That should buy me enough time to save Anunion's granddaughter. I nonchalantly snapped my spyglass shut before turning to Sparrow. As usual I was elated and deeply annoyed. After days of doing little more than sleep he was finally clear in both eye and enaid. The slow recovery of his strength from that wish had been troubling to say the least. My own shredded enaid which had contributed the bulk of the raw power behind it had been back to its new 'normal' within a day. I had begun to fear he had crippled himself but at long last he was brighter than ever. Just in time to make port. Damnation. I had been hoping to take advantage of his 22 hour a day naps to settle matters in Venice with my danger prone little brother safely held in Pearl's bosom. So what was I going to do to distract a newly bright eyed and clearly ready to fly Sparrow?_

_Keeping both the relief and the vexation out of my voice and expression I coolly offered him the glass._

_After a moment he chirped a confused_ "I do NOT chirp" Jack grumbled._ "Venice?"_

_In a tone like an Arctic wind I retorted "Are you asking or telling?"_

_The flutter in his enaid told me that he'd gotten the message while giving no outward sign to dynol eyes. Good on both counts. _

"_O'course it's Venice. I may not hae the head for figures that ye do but I can bloody well read. I just di'n expect ye te sail FURTHER inte the Med." From the flares racing through his enaid he was both angry and worried._

"_I have business in the city. I'll need you to keep the Pearl ready to sail at a moment's notice."_

"_That's yer first mate's job."_

"_Not this time" I said as I closed the cabin door in his face and turned the lock. I could feel him debating picking the lock, not one of his strong suits, walking away followed by sneaking ashore after me but he'd learned the hard way just how futile that was if I didn't let him track me, or talking to me through the door. I was a bit surprised when he opted for the later, perhaps Sparrow was learning._

"_I've never been te Venice, think o' the lovely ladies that will be missing out if ye keep me away."_

_I rolled my eyes before opening the wardrobe. I kept a few outfits suitable for court. I'd never actually worn them since tradition dictated wearing the coronation outfit until the end of the ceremony and I hadn't lingered for it. Silk, Draigs, I missed silk. Clothe of silver may cut a fine figure but no one ever claimed it was comfortable. Not that anything suitable for court ever was. But silk, glorious silk, came as close as anything ever did. Bugger all. I slithered out of it taking a moment to admire my gemcraft, the one bit of earth magic I'd ever been truly good at. Someday, I swore to myself, someday my sire would lay gutted at my feet and my enaid would be whole again. Someday I would claim the throne that was my birthright and do all within my not inconsiderable power to restore what my sire had done his best to destroy. I swallowed hard knowing that much would be forever lost. Every moment I lingered here I had no doubt something or someone was laid to waste. Once I could have flown across the continent. I would have laughed and seen the mardeth ring around England as nothing but an amusing challenge as I slipped through it like a knife under the ribs. Now I couldn't even get TO the gate. I ground my teeth in impotent rage._

"_Ye know the crew won't be able te keep me here if I truly want off."_

_I checked the look in the mirror. Back at court, I hadn't been at a proper court in SO long. _

"_If ye take me with ye, ye'll be able te keep me in line."_

_As if. I'd have better luck herding three hundred cats than my Sparrow. I opened the door taking advantage of Sparrow's shock at my change of style to sweep past him. The boy scrambled catching my sleeve. He dropped it at my glare but leaned close to whisper "Please" my brother had his pride, that please cost something. "Ye were dead, ye were **dead**. Ye told me ye shouldn't come here, ye told me it could cost ye yer life and I didn't bloody listen and ye **died**. Please, can we, **please**, just sail back out o'here?"_

"_I can not."_

"_Is some slight worth yer life?" he snapped angry._

"_This isn't about vengeance" he gave me a dubious glance. So much for my attempts to be a kinder, gentler soul this time around. "It **isn't**" I insisted. Sparrow cursed under his breath knowing from experience I had said all I intended to but persisting anyway "then why?"_

"_Once upon a time an extremely narcissistic young man had a very, very loyal servant. A servant who lived and died trying to do what was best for his master with every breath. I discovered that his granddaughter is in dire trouble. Even if it kills me, Jack Sparrow" not that I expected it to "I can not leave her to die. I just can not. I owe him too much" I'd surprised us both by making that revelation. _

"_So you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue, and so win faire lady's heart?"_

"_Yes to the former, no to the later." Why was I having this conversation? _

"_Pity" he mumbled "ye could use a good lay."_

_He was probably right, hmm, if I was being honest he was decidedly right but I wasn't desperate enough to let some poor woman bear the consequences. _

"_Eunuch."_

_It would be decidedly less frustrating if I were._

"_Let me help."_

_Trying to keep Sparrow safe wouldn't make matters any easier but when had I ever taken the easy course?_

_I did NOT sigh as I realized Sparrow wasn't listening to word I was saying. Oh, he was hearing it & could likely parrot it back just as well I could with Argellion. What I wouldn't give to have Argellion here. I suspected he'd found it just as annoying then as I did now. I made a note to apologize for that at the first possible opportunity. Princes do not grind their teeth. I could tell just looking at his face never mind his enaid that we were about to have the 15,000th rendition of the why won't you tell me who you really are argument. On one hand I could sympathize with Sparrow. It might have been over a hundred & fifty years since Mannwan had told me I was a Prince of Avalon but I could still remember with crystal clarity exactly how wretched it felt to have no idea who you were or where you came from. I'd made damn sure though that from the moment I arrived that even if I had withheld what little I knew of his past that he had an unmistakable course to his chosen future and I had never allowed Sparrow to be treated the way the Tudors had treated me. Regardless even if he had known we were brothers Sparrow had NO right to demand MY history. My past was my own & no business of Sparrow's but the boy simply would NOT leave well enough alone. And to add insult to injury when I did let some tidbit slip he refused to bloody believe me. If he called me daft one more time when I was telling him the plain unvarnished truth I was going to have him refresh every inch of Pearl's brightwork with a single strand of hair as a brush. _

_I rapped the hilt of the small dagger I'd been using as a pointer against the desk and cleared my throat eloquently (there was a knack to it) "Sparrow."_

_A long suffering sigh "On April 25, 1684 the Most Serene Republic declared war on the Ottoman Empire whilst the Turks were too busy securing their northern bord"_

_Sparrow stopped parroting to give me a worried look, "Ye're not entertaining the notion o' joining the Doge on his campaign are ye?"_

"_Of course not" I replied smoothly though I had to admit it was tempting now that I was here. Except I wasn't certain I wanted anything to do with someone who would blow a great bloody hole in the **PARTHENON** and merely call in a good shot. To then add insult to unimaginable injury he'd tried to steal some of the finest statuary and botched the job. Priceless, irreplaceable, sentient stones shattered. Damn the Turks too for using something so precious to store powder. Perhaps when I came into my own Mannwan could do something. I hoped Mannawn could do something the Parthenon had been unique & precious. It was as if thousands of years of supplicants seeking wisdom had somehow made the place wise. She wasn't lledrith in the classic sense but the ysbred of the girl who had been sacrificed for the original temple beneath the current one had lingered becoming progressively more aware through the centuries in which the Greeks had come until she had become if not truly Athena the closest thing that had likely ever existed. She was confined to the temple itself but within it she had a power & majesty all her own. I wondered if she had survived the cannon ball and subsequent explosion. I doubted it but maybe just maybe between us Mannawn and I could restore her. If they HAD to blow a historical building to bits why couldn't it have been the Coliseum? I shivered just thinking of that monstrosity._

"_Really" Sparrow's skepticism was a palpable presence. I LIKED Venice (certain individuals disparagement of four thousand years of history notwithstanding) I'd never particularly cared for the Turks. I hadn't led a proper campaign in ever so long. _

"_Really" I replied firmly & then ruined it with a yearning sigh. _

"_I'm not a child anymore" Sparrow offered but his enaid had faded considerably._

"_No, but you aren't quite ready to stand on the quarter deck alone either" I returned "thank you for the offer."_

_Sparrow drew a deep breath – here it came. I could feel the wish building behind it & my own flash of anger in reply. I swallowed it hard. If I wasn't going to give Sparrow the full truth I could hardly blame him when he pushed with far more than mere words. I had told him, repeatedly, to be careful what he wished for but he'd so firmly fixed his mind on the fact that he didn't do magic that nothing short of a full reveal was going to convince him otherwise, hell's bells he might not even finally believe then. _

"_We could stay in port for a while. Let the crew get their land legs back."_

_I cocked a questioning brow at him._

_He shrugged "Haven't seen ye like this since" a lick of the lips as he thought better of what he was about to say. "in far too long. Even back in Tortuga I could take care o meself."_

"_Sparrow" I began_

"_I know that there's a difference between surviving and living. Ye TAUGHT it te me but I don't think ye've been listening to ye own lessons, Captain. I know ye love the sea but ye're different here. It's like ye've come home and…"_

_As soon as I caught the distress in his enaid I grasped his chin and raised those chocolate orbs to meet mine,"Sparrow, **Sparrow** you aren't holding me back " Nimrais snorted in disgust "In days of old when I was long at court I was just as keen to be back at Sea as I am to be at court now." Draigs I hadn't realized how deeply I'd been missing being at court. "Even if I wouldn't be risking my life staying, I would still be sailing on the Pearl once matters with my erstwhile servant's granddaughter are settled. I intend to see Captain Jack Sparrow with a firm hand on both rudder and wheel ere I disembark."_

"_So ye'll be going off on yer onesies then?"_

"_Not for a few more years" I assured him "but I can't stay forever Sparrow." _

"_So it is that ye've affairs o' yer own" he paused. _

"_Yes, and they are mine ALONE" I shuddered as I recalled Meleri's prophesies. I wasn't letting my little brother anywhere near the fight that was waiting for me._

_It was Sparrow's turn to grind his teeth. It was petty of me but given how often I was tempted to strangle Jack the Draig in me was pleased to see Sparrow equally frustrated. _

"_Rec-i-pro-ci-ty, mayhap ye've heard o' it."_

"_Not a word any proper pirate should have in his vocabulary. What's the motto? Oh, yes, 'take what you can, give nothing back'?"_

"_Then mayhap ye shouldn't hae taught it te me" he riposted._

"_I'll make you a deal, Captain Jack Sparrow, if when the time comes for me to take up my own affaires I find myself in need of a pirate you'll be the first I think of. Do we have an accord?"_

_Sparrow narrowed his eyes & crossed his arms, "So whatever it is ye'll be doing won't be involving things maritime in any way, shape, or form or ye wouldna hae made the offer." Draigs but I hated to see even a shadow of pain in those dark eyes. I would cheerfully rip the heart out of anyone who so much as looked askance at him which made those moments when I was to blame a blade in the vitals. I hadn't meant to insult him but my brother while occasionally mind blowingly daft was never, ever stupid. _

"_I'm sorry"_

"_Fer insulting me intelligence or for the fact that ye fully intend te vanish when ye deem the time te be ripe?"_

"_Yes"_

_Sparrow muttered several decidedly unkind things about my mother. I closed my eyes and very firmly did NOT remember how I'd last seen her. What He had made me do to her and my aunts. My mother's name should have been Deirdre for she had been fairest of our House and her eyes had held bottomless sorrow. She hadn't deserved what He made me do to her, hell She hadn't deserved it either. I'd have killed Her. The same way would have any other mad animal, quickly, cleanly, and as humanely as possible. And Meleri, Jane's Christ but I didn't want to think about gentle mad Meleri. She'd forgiven me in the end, she and my mother both. They'd known that I'd tried to save them, known that I'd brought His wrath down on my own head by ending their suffering more quickly than He'd planned. I swallowed hard not wanting to remember…_

"_Mallory?" Sparrow's tone had me snapping my full attention back to the present, Risanca half unsheathed. I whirled every sense straining. I shot Sparrow a questioning look when I could find nothing amiss. Clearly I'd let far too much show. Sparrow was going to give himself worry lines which simply would not do. I drew a breath to reassure him when the Blood silence truly hit me. I'd known the Rigion had all been slaughtered but this was the first time I'd been to the continent and understood all the way to my bones that that soft song of several thousand very distant relations I'd taken for granted to the point that it didn't every really register in all the days Before was **GONE**, that all that was left was Sparrow. One last precious Rigion. I might not know who his mother was but Gwyla, my little gull's, blood ran in his veins as sure as our Sire's did. _

"_I need a little air." I used the Wind to say as I swallowed the bitter bile at the back of my throat. What does He want with you Sparrow? Jane's God save us both. I paused on that thought. I was more desperate than I realized if I was praying to a God I didn't believe in and who I knew too damn well didn't eve save his own. _

_Sparrow started to follow._

"_And Venice has some of the finest book stalls in the world." THAT gave him pause. It wasn't that Sparrow disliked reading he just didn't share my love of it. He'd learned the hard way I could cheerfully spend a full day and my share of an entire voyage in the book stalls. He wavered._

"_I'm fine."_

_I received a dubious glance but he didn't actually call me a liar. "Be careful. You aren't on the Pearl. Remember what I've told about courts in general and this one in particular. One wrong word, the wrong gesture, hell the wrong button can land you in prison or worse."_

_Sparrow rolled his eyes "yes mother." I shouldn't be leaving him, I really shouldn't but I needed a little distance. I wouldn't go far, the best book stalls were close but I needed a little distance from those perfectly Rigion eyes staring out of a face that favored our Sire's more every day before I thoroughly embarrassed myself. Usually the utterly different enaids were more than enough for me to see nothing of the monster that Sired us in Sparrow but today, today I fled, memories I'd have gladly fed our Sire's enaid eating fiends nipping at my heels. _

_No sooner had I left the room than I felt Sparrow's most recent wish slip past me. I reached for it (I'd discovered in desperation that if I could catch a wish immediately I could destroy it, once they were loose Sparrow was the only one who might have an influence on one) but it fluttered out of reach and Jane's God knew what that one was going to do. _

"What precisely did you wish Captain Sparrow?" Commodore Norrington inquired in as close to a neutral tone as I'd ever heard him manage around Jack.

Jack's eyes narrowed and I could see the Commodore swallowing several biting comments. "Mallory had talked about torture's uses, techniques, and how te deal with it medically but it was all very… academic. That was the first time I realized someone, somewhere had tortured Mallory. I knew he'd deny it if I asked but I'd seen that same look in the eyes o'men I knew had been tortured when something throws them back inte it." Jack swiveled his rings "He'd been so bloody… morose is a little strong, burdened." Jack nodded as if agreeing with himself. "Burdened, ladened, fraught, beleaguered, beset like he'd been carrying the weight o' the world which I suppose he was or at least a significant piece. He'd been getting progressively more distant and broody for a couple o' years afore my little jaunt inte the Med. So seeing him downright giddy from the moment Venice came inte view was like a breath o wind on a becalmed sea. But he'd told me more than once te stay away from Europe, and he'd bloody well DIED on me. I was concerned. He wasn't acting like himself, he was like those heroes in the old tales when they say 'he went fey' and ye know in about three stanzas he's going te end up bravely but tragically dead."

"But what did you wish" the Commodore pressed.

"I hadn't meant te ruin his good mood. Hadn't meant to dredge up old ghosts. Certainly hadn't meant to send his mind back inte a torture session I'd never dreamed had happened. So I wished that he'd be happy but without that strange mad, self-destructive edge te it. I wished that whatever it was we were in Venice for would come to a conclusion that would both please him and allow us te get the hell back out o the Med posthaste and still breathing. Now, if I've answered te yer satisfaction can we please get back te the matter at hand."

_I breathed deep as I stepped into the shop. Letting years of older, happier memories wash away those of Him. I ran a shaking hand across an empty hidden shelf my fingers finding the spot I'd burned in the smallest, finest lines my mastery of fire could manage the lighthouse spell and the names of my nearest & dearest from before. All gone now. I'd hadn't lied to Sparrow once upon a time my patronage had made this the finest book shop on the Continent. Jane & MiLady Latimer would have loved it but they were both long dead ere I had first come here. That hadn't stopped me from adding their names or their cofarwydds. I reached for Milady Latimer first as was appropriate since hers had been the first enaid to truly touch mine but I hesitated at the last instant. I had created these after Draco, Milady Latimer, Jane, and Nedier's were done from memory. Memory fades, I'd spent considerable time in the carchar trying to remember anything about my twin but her death and to recall the dynol wet nurse who had cared for us in our first year. I had little doubt He'd had her killed in spite, I OUGHT to at least be able to recall her face but all I could recall was an out of tune hum and the impression of a sweet, safe, golden place. I wasn't even sure if the gold was real or if I'd substituted Milady Latimer. Or mayhap I'd been drawn to her from the beginning because I was half remembering someone else? Regardless Princes of the Blood do not pant when all they've done is a short hop from the Doge's Palace. I drew two deep breaths and looked back at the cofarwydds. They were meant to be created during life as mementos far more accurate than any portrait. When properly done they were woven of bits of shorn hair infused with the light from the living enaid which was then passed through the casters preferred element. I'd fused the ash to the wood in this case. I'd made over a dozen once I'd regained my senses after the Draco debacle but this was the only one in reach. I read the names wondering if my memories would prove true or if down there in the long dark of the carchar I'd warped them out of all recognition. Who should be first? I settled on Henry, staunch friend from the moment he'd saved me from toppling down the Tower stairs until the day he'd died. _

_It took far too much will to still the tremble in my hand as I traced Henry Pole, 2nd Baron Montegu, by right of birth King of England at the final d for just a moment it was as if Henry was here. Not some damn faded ysbrd but Henry as he was and just as I recalled. I didn't hurt? I'd been in unrelenting agony for so long I'd forgotten what it felt like to be painless. And then it was back. But why had it gone? I gazed at the names. I considered taking the shelf but the integrity of the spells might be disrupted. I flicked an ear listening and lit a quick flame. Sparrow was in the kitchens flirting with the scullery maids. He was focusing all his attention on the blond (dyed, or lyed more accurately) who fancied girls herself while he could have the brunette he was ignoring on the table right now. She was prettier too. Sparrow seemed to have fixation with dyed hair. Satisfied that my brother hadn't gotten himself into any dire trouble and that he clearly hadn't figured out when a girl wasn't interested I looked back down at the shelf. Speaking of girls should it be Elizabeth Regina Glorianna, Queen Jane, or Grainne Ni Mhaill Chieftain of Umaill Pirate She-King of Clew Bay? If only we had met on my Taithe. Gran would always be my first love even if I'd been too young and she too old. Oh, Gran. Dead nearly a century and I still regretted what had never been. I traced her name and there she was bald an egg, flaming red enaid that I could have cheerfully watched for all of my days, and wild as Sea in a hurricane. When the moment faded I realized why it didn't hurt. A cofarwydd was essentially a moment locked in time and it was crafted not just of the subject's enaid but perforce the casters as well. In that moment my enaid was whole again. I swallowed looking down at the shelf – was I doing myself more harm than good with this? It was a delight to see my friends but this wasn't going to bring them back. And there were no words for how good it felt to be as I should have been, but it was just an illusion that made returning to what I was now that much worse. If I kept this up Bledri was going to have company in that bottle of his. As I pushed away I noticed Anuion in petrified wood at the bottom. I'd expected to see Anuion on my Taithe since he Should have still been alive. This one wasn't my work, it was a message from beyond the grave from Anuion. Draig's but it BURNED as what was left of my earth magic tried to contact stone. Just as I tried to pull back (only to discover my fingers had melded into the petrified wood) Anuion's final 'gift' made an appearance._

_I was next to Henri in an open coach. Draigs, Anuion are you going to make me WATCH him die? I wanted to look away as the mad man plunged his blade into Henri's breast. Where the blazes were the bloody guards, what the HELL were you doing in an OPEN coach Henri? How many times did I tell you. What the hell? Atroi the word I'd never heard bubbled into my brain. There was a reason that all of the King's guard came from Mannwan and Anuion's House. Atroi was the magical equivalent to castling in chess but with far graver consequences to the rook. Anuion had traded his life for Henri's, and bequeathed him the greater part of a noble Ellyllon's life and power. Now I knew why Henri's ysbyrd hadn't come. He didn't have one. Henri was still alive. I'd traded my most faithful servant for a man who despised me and I didn't honestly know if I was devastated or ecstatic. I watched as with his lifeblood flowing in a river from a severed aorta he wrapped a bloody hand around Henri's doublet and begged for me as Henri blinked in amazement both to find himself not dead (and the Duke de Sully rather than King) and face to face with a second most trusted servant who was an Ellyllon._

"_Please, please you have to help him" I was enough of a healer to know what every word was costing Anuion. Henri's face twisted as he realized the him in question was me. "You OWE him, he saved you so many times. He's in trouble, terrible, terrible trouble."_

"_Good" was Henri's succinct reply. Jane's God Henri how could you do that to a man who'd just given his LIFE for you? No matter what I was Anuion had never been anything but honorable and he hadn't deserved to die in despair. By your Christ Henri you could have given him the comfort of a lie, or if that was too much for the 'Most Christian even though I cheat on my wife with ever woman that will lift her skirts for me King' you could have given him a mere I'll consider it. I reft my hand back leaving most the skin seared to the shelf and curled my scorched left hand against my breast. I kicked the wall until bones most of the bones were broken in my feet wishing I could weep. Draigs, Jane's God, and all the little fishes in the Sea what the Hell was wrong with me that I never wept? Every name on that list was more than worthy of my tears yet I'd never shed a single one. The first four letters of Anuion's name were branded all the way to the bone on each finger tip of my left hand. A N U I. I let slip a bitter laugh – it spelled unjust in El'lan. Now THERE was irony. I was half temped to leave it but doubted my subjects would find such a sight reassuring. I was also loath to erase it. I settled for leaving the faintest of scars. If I were to dip my fingers in ink you would see the letters but I doubted anyone else would ever notice them. I knew the Duke de Sully had 'died' in 1641 I wondered where Henri had gone after that. I wondered how he felt about being denied Heaven in exchange for Anuion's magical abilities. And I hoped desperately that he didn't believe himself cursed or evil. _

_I wasn't certain how long I'd just sat on the shop floor staring into nothing when I was distracted by the sound of a slap. Oh, honestly Sparrow. Yes, you're quite attractive despite your horrible fashion sense but no matter how pretty or charming girls who like girls are not going to change their minds. I considered doing something unpleasant to her but he really had deserved it and there was no lasting harm. Oh, well that would drive some of my lessons about matters at court home. Again I considered intervening but I suspected a little time in the stocks might do Sparrow some good. On the other hand having him come back to our rooms covered in shite and rotted fruit simply would not do. I dusted myself off made a few quick purchases to cover why I hadn't come to his rescue and set off to ensure I didn't spend the night trying to get my brother clean. _

_I hefted one of the sponges out of the bucket of soapy perfumed water I'd replaced all of the offal with (it never ceased to amaze me how the dynol would believe their eyes no matter what their fingers & noses told them) and took careful aim at Sparrow as he sat in the stocks. I'd TOLD Sparrow one of these days I was going to wash his mouth out with soap. As Sparrow managed to keep up a steady stream of witty abuse despite the pelting he was getting (and I could tell by his enaid he was more than half enjoying this. Sparrow loved being the center of attention far too much to hate this entirely) I considered where to place my next shot. I ran my thumb across the fingertips of my left hand. Unjust. The world had always been unjust. It was unjust that I was alive when so many good and decent souls had gone to early graves. But as the Dark Lady had said I couldn't change the past only strive for a better future. I refused to diminish Anuion's sacrifice by brooding myself sick. I had set events in motion to restore his granddaughter to her proper place. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the next opportune moment. I laughed as the little girl who'd missed with her last four throws finally raced forward and mashed her sponge against Sparrow's forehead getting thoroughly soaked herself in the process. It was good to be alive and I could only hope wherever Henri was he agreed. I resolved to let it go for now. As I sent my next shot winging toward Sparrow I had to admit this was bar none the most fun I'd ever had giving Sparrow a bath and the easiest time I'd ever had getting him to do 'laundry'. Now if only I could do something about the halitosis…._

The rest of us glanced over at Jack expecting a comment only to find his spot empty. My first thought was that he must have finally gone to give Mallory a piece of his mind what I hadn't expected was to see him holding his pistol under Mr. Not Cotton's chin. When he was certain he had everyone's attention he asked in the politest of tones,

"So Henri Bourbon, erstwhile Prince of Navarre and King of France why are ye here? And what are yer intentions regarding **me** brother?"

The parrot fluttered its wings and squawked indignantly. "Are ye refusing te answer?" there was a Draig like edge creeping into Jack's voice.

"Those were rather open ended questions given that he can't speak" Elizabeth was quick to point out.

"You'd be surprised how much Henri here can say in spite o our Sire. **Me** brother has no idea yer here and if I don't get assurances that ye'll be doing him no further harm ye'll be on an eternally becalmed spit o land with a single shot. Savvy?"

"Becalmed, becalmed!"

"I'm going te need more assurances than that" Jack retorted as he backed Henri all the way up to the stern windows. Henri ended up sitting in the casement with nothing to stop Jack from shoving him out into Pearl's wake.

"In deference te Lizzy's point let's see if I can make a few guesses given that time's wasting. De Sully 'died' in '41 which would hae made him eightyish ancient but not so old that you HAD te leave a comfortable life. Ye told **me** brother a few nights ago that ye went willingly te Avalon but were ye coerced, blackmailed, or otherwise threatened inte it?"

"Becalmed."

"So why risk yer life for a man ye'd reviled? And why after so many years had pas… oh" you could hear the ah-ha in Jack's voice. "That would hae been about the time **me** brother's soul started te take a beating. Bledri would hae had reason to keep a weather eye on what the difaenaid were up te. He came te ye, I'm guessing that Mallory learned te make cofarwydds from Bledri. That Beldri had ones o his children. That he told ye exactly what happened te his eldest, mayhap even showed ye. Being a fine upstanding religiousy gent ye know all about Matthew 10:28 – how am I doing so far?"

"Wind in the sails."

"Soul eaters" Jack whispered in a tone to freeze the blood "that thought offended yer Christian principles didn't it? It was fine, peachy, excellent well, and just bloody brilliant that he was in trouble. Ye just decided he was reaping what he sowed as ye lot like te call it. Forty bloody years o hell and ye just let him rot. Never mind that while Martin Luther may have been the first one te stand up fer the freedom o men's souls **me** brother was one whose wit and magic tipped the tide away from the might o the papacy, the Hapsburgs, and the Valois. Time after time when the Protestants praised their God for a 'divine intervention' at the opportune moment it was really **me** brother hard at work for **your** oh so very bloody cause. " Jack hadn't made it a question but the parrot bobbed its head while looking down. "Did it rock yer faith when ye found out he had pointy ears?" Jack made certain his own were showing. "Or did ye just decide that God was using evil te mar evil? And then the real thunder bolt, the Ellyllon were originally o human stock. Sons o' Adam, daughters o' Eve with _**souls**_. What was happening te his body didn't matter, but his soul, now that was a different matter. Ye wanted him in Hell and he couldn't be if his soul was devoured."

The parrot "Shiver me timbers" was nearly drowned out by Henri's gagging attempt to speak for himself. Jack had to shove him back into the casement as Henri ignored the gun.

"Not quite right am I then? Oh" Jack smirked "what a feather in yer cap his soul would be. The soul o' the Ellyllon Crown prince come inte the Protestant fold bringing his Kingdom with him. What kind o' reward would that be fer ye at the Final Judgment? Do ye think it will balance the ledger for all those Catholics ye killed? For all the Protestants who died under yer banner? That's what yer here for isn't it Henri o' Navarre? Ye've come te 'save' **me** brother's soul. I'm tempted te let ye take a long swim. I learned by constant EXAMPLE that there were men o true kindness, compassion, charity, justice, and honor from a man ye deemed unworthy te live. Ye didn't know him away from yer sanguineous wars and hypocritical causes. I had te translate yer letters. All **12** volumes inte **4** different languages. I know ye Henri o Navarre and I know him. He **is** a better man than ye ever were" Jack finally took the barrel out of the hollow under Henri's chin "but sometimes he wasn't. I don't honestly know if yer going te do some good or far more damage te what's left o him. I can only warn ye, if ye make me regret not marooning ye here and now ye will wish fer hell." The parrot ruffled its feathers but made no sign of protest or agreement.

Jack walked backward to his seat never taking his eyes of Henri or the not-parrot before waving his hands at Elizabeth to continue.

_Apparently the_

"The tide's running on us Lizzy"

Elizabeth frowned clearly wanting to see more of Venice.

"Do ye really think me brother failed te give Anunion's great granddaughter a lovely happily ever after?" Jack fiddled with his rings "She was the only one that ever agreed with me that Mallory was daft. She actually hit him, not slapped, closed fist round house right te the jaw when she realized he'd come after her. Cursed him fit te make a pirate blush for a fool when she laid eyes on me. She asked me te look out fer him, but she wouldn't utter a single word about his real name or where he came from, or for that matter what her grandfather's had been. When I asked her if her grandfather'd noticed if Mallory had already been daft back then all she did was weep. Not one blasted word." He glared at Henri "All I had were hints and oblique references. I didn't KNOW anything."

Elizabeth cleared her throat "Then what do you think I should be reading next?"

Jack leaned over flipped a couple of pages before pointed about half way down and sighing "Start there."

_Dearest Will,_

_My apologies for the long lull in missives, though I am certain if your Heaven exists you have far more spectacular diversions to entertain you. Matters have been a touch hectic of late. Sparrow's advancement to Captain started out fortuitously enough but now I heartily wish I had never heard of Nassau let alone suggesting we…visit. I knew quite well that Captain Sparrow could hear the winds whispering about Henry Every's successful raids, about the Fancy's sad state and about his decision to disperse the crew to give them a better chance at getting ahead of the authorities but he would never admit it. So it fell to me to state what was obvious to both of us that woefully undermanned and bursting with ill gotten gains Nassau was ripe for the plucking. Captain Every had found Gov. Trotter of Nassau most accommodating after he and his crew had paid a very hefty bribe. He'd also left behind a tip in the form of over fifty tons of ivory and a lovely selection of **silk**. _

I could hear Jack rolling his eyes as Mallory had to pause & savor the memory of it running through his fingers.

_The blue would be absolutely lovely on Marissa. Draigs, Will, but you lot grow so FAST. Sparrow's gone from downy chick to nearly full grown in the blink of an eye and my god daughters arent' far behind. Outwardly Marissa is going to be the beauty of the family but there's something rotten at her core Will. Jane's God knows I've seen it often enough in the torture chambers of Europe and I haven't a clue how to fix it. If I can't figure something out she's going to break her parent's hearts when she starts killing slowly for pleasure. I glanced up looking long and hard at Sparrow's pristine blazing red enaid. I winced at the resentment of me flickering through it. Sparrow might yet break my heart but it wouldn't be out of the twisted darkness that stalked the rest our House. His enaid held not even the faintest shadow of the blood lust that marked even 'gentle' Meleri and ruled our Sire. I wondered just how dark my own was._

_No, sadly, Captain Sparrow wasn't going to live to die old in his bed. As the saying goes 'there are old pirates and there are bold pirates. There are no old, bold pirates.' I could only conclude that I'd let him read a few too many tales of Robin Hood. Whilst my little brother certainly had no plans of giving to the poor, he'd clearly taken the notion of the 'clever trickster' to heart. Captain Sparrow wanted to be the brilliant pirate who always got the booty and the girl and never harmed a soul doing it. It was a fine goal to be sure but there was a reason new pirate Captains were so brutal to their first few prizes – once a sufficiently ruthless reputation was acquired one could afford a touch of leniency for those who submitted immediately but Captain Sparrow wanted to do it all through sheer cleverness. If anyone can do it it will be Sparrow. He has a sharp wit and even more importantly he's a gwelt but as Nassau had made unambiguously clear both can fail spectacularly. This time I'd been perfectly placed at the tipping point in the whole thing to seize the opportune moment and neatly salvage the situation. Someday very soon I wouldn't be at his side and…_

_Mallory's chest tightened to the point it was difficult to breath_

…_And he's going to get himself killed. Ironically probably for doing the right thing. He's going to spare the wrong man or save the wrong woman's life and be slaughtered because of it._

_Mallory closed his eyes listening to the drunken Tortuga brawl being waged to his right. _

_I can't stay forever Will. I just can't even though we make a damn fine team. If it weren't for Meleri's dire predictions I might have tried to find some way for him to set that gwelt talent loose on our Sire while I attempted an assassination in the confusion. Even if I was just on a normal Taithe I'd need to leave for a little while. My Sparrow is chafing at my over protectiveness. And I am Will, I KNOW I am but I just can't stand to watch him fall. There's so much I have to explain before I go. I've already left it for far too long._

_Mallory opened his eyes taking in the tavern with a sneer. Draigs, Will but I loathe this town. As he'd been every waking moment for nearly a month Captain Sparrow was dead drunk and still angry as hell with me. Angry that I was the one who'd salvaged the Nassau raid even if he and I were the only ones that knew it, angry that he knew little more about me now than when we'd met in the street in front of this hovel, angry that he owed me everything he had, angry that when he came back here looking to prove that the gutter rat had made good no one even remembered the gutter rat (which is not my fault!). It was hardly the opportune moment for divulging the truth but there was a Wild Hunt nearly here. At least I didn't have to worry about him getting in the way of this one even if I did owe him my life and freedom from the last one. That had been entirely…_

"Lizzy!" Jack barked.

Elizabeth looked…quite put out at being interrupted so rudely. I resolved to find a peace offering at some point, Jack was on his own. "Did you require something Captain Sparrow?" she asked far too politely.

"Let me see that bit"

"Ohhh" Elizabeth smirked "You mean this line where he says you saved his life?"

Jack still looked a little gob smacked, "It says that?"

"I must confess I'm having difficulty believing it myself" the Commodore said dryly.

Elizabeth turned the journal. Both sets of eyes showed clear confusion. "With your permission then" Elizabeth didn't bother to wait for either of them to continue

_And unforgivably sloppy on my part even if it had been the largest Hunt heretofore. Thank the Draigs that mardeths have zero ability to work together or the six of them would have had me, they nearly had me even working at cross purposes with each other before Sparrow distracted them at the opportune moment. I wondered if telling Captain Sparrow that the last time we'd faced far worse disaster (though in my defense I'd TOLD him I had no business being anywhere in Europe) he had been the one who'd held the tipping point would make things better or worse._

_Speaking of the Hunt I sent Wind to ensure young Ned Teach (not his real name but he refused to inform him of his – I could hardly judge him on that was another sore point between Sparrow and I since he'd specifically come wanting ME to train him in fine art of piracy) one of the only three Old Blood sailors currently on this wretched rock was still safely tucked away on the Pearl. I toyed again with simply knocking Sparrow over the_

_head, carrying him down the Pearl, and ordering the crew to set sail. Somehow I doubted it would improve our already straining relationship. I would just have to keep the Hunt well clear of this…place once I got Bill 'Turner' back here to keep an eye on Sparrow. I'd spent the better part of the month making it was securely warded, blessed, and otherwise protected as I could since Captain Sparrow seemed to prefer it to the ship I'd built him. Which left Mr. 'Barbossa' (seriously? was I supposed to believe that was his name?) and as far as I was concerned the mardeth was welcome to eat his braying ass. With my luck the mardeth would spit him back out. _

_Well, speak of the devil. I expected him to go back to toadying and lick spittling to Captain Sparrow as he had been for weeks whilst completely ignoring me. If he had been dynol or even most Old Blood that would be right and proper since he would have had no idea that I was anything but the first mate (though if he had any kind of honor he would have the decency to tell me he was trying to take my 'job'). I would like to say that my brother was too wise for 'Barbossa's' quite frankly piss poor flattery but he was sucking it up faster than the rum he'd been imbibing. To my surprise he came towards my table for the first time._

"_A bit o' privacy if ye please" _

_I glared at the cocky bastard a moment before complying._

_He swept off his hat and gave me the proper bow of Old Blood to a Prince of the Blood but not to the Crown Prince I noted._

"_Yer Grrrace" his manner of speaking alone was enough to make me want to send him packing. He paused clearly expecting me to reply. I'd sooner chat with a shark and by the look of his enaid the feeling was mutual._

"_I couldn't help but notice that we're about te have some company" he was practically purring in delight. "I'd have thought ye'ddd want te be getting Sparrow and the Pearl off te deep water first."_

"_**Captain** or **Prince** Sparrow to you" I snarled at him "Mr. **Cromwell****."**_

_Oh, but he didn't like that, not my insistence on Captain Sparrow's proper title or that I knew his name._

"_As I see there's no fooling ye" your toadying ways might work on Sparrow I thought but they won't on me. This snake wanted something and I was willing to bet it was the Pearl. Fortunately I was reasonably certain Captain Sparrow loved his ship far too much to let this blackguard anywhere near her. And had the man never heard of dental hygiene? Or a razor? And what were those things over his eyes. Tweezers are our friends. "though I'm curious what gave it away?"_

_As if it wasn't brutally obvious "I understand that Cromwell isn't the safest of names right now but why Barbossa?"_

"_Arrr, it's a looong and interstin' tale that's not te be told nor heard whilst sober" he replied while calling for a round of absinthe. By all the little fishes I'd just left an open invitation for this kiss arse to presume to sit in Our Presence. I considered my options, first and most tempting I could dump the absinthe over his head and find a new perch to watch over my Captain, second I could burn him to ash for his audacity and impudence hmm actually I liked option 2 better but it was out of keeping with trying to be gentler and kinder this time. Three I could take my leave but that smacked of a retreat or fourth I could let the absinthe run into the pockets sewn into the sleeves for just such occasions (honestly I'd been surprised to find even one soul who could see through my Shadows but that was no excuse not to be prepared) and listen. But what would be the point? With one word from her Captain he'd be a pile of ash if he tried to take the Pearl. The baying of the hounds was growing fainter which meant Mannwan was nearly here. Could I take him? He was Avalon's finest warrior, or had been in my youth. While not old he was no longer in his prime. Could I break him free? If I did would he side with me or would his honor bind him yet to my Sire?_

"_They're nearly here" Barbossa noted as he sipped his absinthe. He waved the filthy mug in Captain Sparrow's direction. As if I'd bring that anywhere near my lips even if I was inclined to drink before battle. "He'll be needing a steadying hand while yer….otherwise engaged. I'd be obliged if ye'd put in a good word."_

_I'd have sooner endorsed the monkey on his shoulder. I was sorely tempted to kill him here and now but he knew things he shouldn't. I wanted to know where he'd learned them and who he'd told. I put a hand on his shoulder and heated it just short of branding hot. "Captain Sparrow **has** a steadying hand & if you harm one hair on his head I **won't** kill you."_

"_Do I have yer word on that?" he asked my back as I went out to face the Wild Hunt and to kill an Ellyllon I dearly loved._

Elizabeth flipped the page skipping over the Wild Hunt since we'd already heard at least some of it from Jack.

_I won? _I'd never heard Mallory that stunned. No cocky 'I'm the Prince of Avalon' just a drop down on one knee blinking into the shadeless empty gray of newly crafted cynfyd in confused amazement.

_I won?! I won! I shut my mouth (it was a good thing I'd moved the battle into the tunnels created by the Wild Hunt on its long march to Tortuga. If we'd still been on that slop heap I'd have caught a score of flies by now. Except there would be nothing left of the entire island if the full battle had been fought Above). I started to rise but the grey spun and went dark…_

"That" Jack announced "was a swoon worthy of Lizzy."

_Blech! My mouth tasted like something had died in it and I'd tried to get rid of the taste with ash and sand. The cynfyd the Wild Hunts had created to get past Sea's blockade had constricted to a bubble barely bigger than the carchar. Utterly alone I indulged in a slight shudder at the memory. That was **sloppy**. What you indulged in private would eventually creep into public view. Never let them see you bleed. How long did it take for cynfyd to contract once there was no one maintaining it? And more importantly how long had I been away from Sparrow & Pearl? A glance down at the rings spinning loosely around my near skeletal fingers proved it had been too long but this had been the hardest fight of my life and there hadn't exactly been time to stop for sustenance. At the rate I had to have been burning through my reserves it might have been no more than a fortnight. My empty gut though still not complaining (would I ever actually be hungry again? Given how miserable starving had felt in the carchar one would think I'd be ecstatic that I seemed to have escaped hunger pangs forever. Except I bloody well SHOULD be hungry. In the grand scheme of all the things that were wrong with me courtesy of my Sire the lack of an appetite and the ability to be satisfyingly full were the least of my worries. But it was **vexing**) insisted it had been far more than that, months not weeks. My brutally dry throat concurred. Ellyllon with powerful enough enaids could go decades without food but even motionless in the carchar I'd required water, granted only a gulp every few months through the air holes had been enough. My breath hitched. I needed water, and I needed it now. Getting to my feet was far too hard. The grey no-place spun and there was nothing for me to brace myself against. I landed on my knees. I was so desiccated it hurt to breath. If you can't walk, crawl. Princes of the Blood do not **crawl**. I got my feet back under me and then wondered what to do next. I hadn't a clue where I was. There had been a labyrinth of 'tunnels' honeycombed under what seemed like the entire Caribbean with at least four (five? six? I'd lost count in the last desperate fights) separate Wild Hunts all trying to flank me. I'd never crafted cynfyd and the warren had clearly collapsed once I destroyed the Wild Hunts. I couldn't just surface. I'd discovered crush depth the hard way and without the ability to properly prepare if I came up too deep Sea would kill me before She ever realized I was there, if I came up too far inland I'd have an entirely different set of troubles. I swayed as my vision tunneled. I needed water and more rest. I **needed** to know where the shallows were Above. So stop rambling and whining and figure it out already I told myself. My Earth gifts were gon….huh? _

I saw Jack start a little out of the corner of my eye as Mallory dropped onto his arse stunned beyond speechless. It was several blinks before his mind seemed to spark back to life.

_The difaenaid. When at the very last moment of the fight I'd destroyed the difaenaid I'd gotten back the pieces of my enaid it had taken. **Taken**, not devoured as it should have. Why hadn't it been devoured wholesale? My Sire, my Sire had forced them to take but not truly feed. But why? What was he trying to achieve? My eyelids felt like sandpaper against my eyes. Water now, implications later. But I might be able to be whole again. I'd told myself for years I'd get the pieces back but deep down I'd known better. Except I might be. Not likely, not at all likely. His gorchmyns would fade at his death and they would finally feed or he would order those pieces devoured just to spite me. The hope that had leapt up nearly guttered out but refused to die completely. I'd gotten a bit of myself back and the rest still EXISTED and as long as it did there WAS hope. But not if I didn't get off my arse and find some water posthaste. _

_Oh there was water Above alright, but it was salt and nearly a thousand fathoms deep. Far too deep even for my skill with Wind and Sea. With the newly regained scraps of my Earth gifts I reached out for where Sea met Shore. There four days hard run due south was an island with fresh water. I tried to shallow but my throat was already too dry. Sooner started sooner finished... _

_My share of the green silk from the Nassau raid would be spectacular on Marie. Which of the newest fashions would suit her best? Or should I ignore fashion and tailor purely to them? Decisions, decisions. And what to do for Anna-Maria? My wild goddaughter would gleefully destroy any dress presented to her so there was no point in designing her one. The current fashion would suit Marissa nicely but for my Marie I wanted to SET fashion. Something with a low neckline, age and child bearing had not yet marred milady's lovely breast and since reaching the age to appreciate such things I'd found the current fashion less than ideal. While I had nothing against cleavage (though I wasn't nearly as fixated as Sparrow, or at least I managed to be more discrete in my leering!) I was firmly of the opinion that mashing them with a corset that barely let the ladies breath was no way to treat a divine bosom. So if I intended to improve upon the situation I would also perforce need a better corset. Did I have any boning on the Pearl? No matter I could still weave finer boning magically than any merchant would have. Lace though I couldn't do a proper corset without the finest of lace to trim the silk. I was far better at lace than anyone I knew but I wanted the dress done soon I couldn't do the stitching, appliqué, embroidery, and make the lace too if I wanted Marie and Marissa to have their dresses while they were still young enough to enjoy them. All the best lace was in Europe. Who was going to Europe who owed me a favor? I sighed as if I knew anyone these days with a proper sense of fashion. I simply could not make do with inferior lace. The entire effect would be utterly ruined. I wondered if I could teach Wind to knot lace…hmm not a good idea. Would the crew mutiny if I set them to lace making? I suspected several of the better riggers could make a tidy bit in retirement if I taught them how._

_Now what coiffure would suit both milady and the exquisite ensemble I was going to fashion? Something elegant and intricate. Fortunately Marie had a lovely head of long, thick, lustrous hair. I wouldn't need to add much in order to recreate Henri's favorite style and the fact that I was likely the only one who remembered how to do it would be the perfect excuse to get my hands into her tresses. Henri loved the style both because it beautifully framed a lady's face when it was up and when affairs of state were over, remove a single pin and it would cascade down to perfectly frame milady's breast whilst leaving the delicate rim of the ear and the curve of the neck bare for milord's attentions. I closed my eyes and drew in the scent of …. **TORTUGA**?!_

_Oh honestly if I was going to keep hallucinating due to dehydration it could at least be something pleasant! I opened my eyes and realized that no, it wasn't another hallucination, I'd just spent however long it had been walking to bloody Tortuga. Draigs! I hated this place. So get a drink, catch back up to Sparrow, and then figure out what to do next. I tried to laugh but my throat was too dry. I had a piece of my soul back. I had a piece **BACK**. I just might get them ALL back. Tortuga was beautiful._

_I wrapped one hand round my boot dagger while continuing to draw in water as quickly as I could. Someone was looking for me. I could feel the intent even if neither of us had spotted the other. My throat protested as I pushed away from the barrel. I'd had enough even if I hadn't had my fill. A quick glance about the courtyard of the inn revealed young Ned Teach. Who SHOULD have been on the Pearl which was NOT in the harbor. The look on the boy's face filled me with dread as I dropped the outer Shadow letting him see Mr. Mallory. One look at him had me seeking Sparrow and the Pearl. Sparrow's Blood should have been a beacon as clear as the Lighthouse spell housed in Peregrin's main mast. Instead I got only echoes. It doesn't mean he's dead I told myself desperately. It doesn't. It can't. Please. I didn't know who or what to direct that plea to. I'd bled myself several times since escaping the carchar and had Sea scatter the Blood to muddy my trail. Except Sparrow didn't know that. Didn't know that he COULD be tracked by his Blood. And chillingly didn't share my ability to be bled nearly dry and still recover. That amount of Blood…. Draigs could he survived losing enough Blood for all those echoes? If he was alive then he was sorely wounded or had been bled regularly in small amounts the entire time I'd been gone._

_Ned Teach was grim as death. I wanted to run more than I ever had in my entire life. I latched onto the barrel forcing myself to stand, expecting to be told the manner of my little brother's demise. No, no, no, no, mercy I begged of whatever powers might watch over the affairs of men. Not expecting it, not expecting that there were such entities but desperate enough to beg anyway. _

"_He took the Pearl."_

_What? I had assumed the Pearl had sent herself to the bottom in grief with Sparrow gone._

"_Jack let him onboard and they set sail for Isla de Muerta. Jack put me off before he left with Barbossa's crew. They came back without him but with the treasure. Captain Barbossa set sail for Maracaibo last full moon." _

_Pearl was still afloat which meant, which meant Sparrow might still be alive. It didn't guarantee it. With the Blood echoing the way it was it might be years before Pearl with her less than quick wits knew Sparrow's fate one way or the other but she hadn't SEEN him die, hadn't felt him die and they WERE linked so maybe? I clung to that hope like a barnacle. _

_I snarled realizing the reason for the echoes. That conniving Old Blood bastard meant to use those years to bind her to himself. To HELL with that. Pearl was **Sparrow's**. I wasn't Pearl. I should be able to tell the difference between mere echoes and the vibrant song of my brother's Blood. One of them shouldn't have just been an echo. But that's all I could find. That's all there was. My knees went out and I slid down the barrel curling into a ball without caring that Ned Teach was watching. Sparrow was gone. Draigs, draigs. I drew several ragged, shaking breaths. I couldn't even keep one boy safe how the hell was I supposed to save a kingdom? _

_I could hell be damn sure avenge him. "Captain Barbossa" was going to die, horribly, repeatedly, and for as long as necromancy could keep it that way him and his whole very, very damned crew. _

26


	35. Sails without Wind

**Blood of Avalon: Chapter 20: Sails without Wind**

_I hovered above the Pearl, breathless and light-headed from the long flight but unable to land. Sparrow had found my insistence on protocol since I'd turned command over to him endlessly amusing without ever realizing the truth. I COULDN'T get aboard the Pearl without his permission. I settled for landing beside her, standing on the waves. I reached a hand out just shy of the wards that would likely kill me in my current state if I was foolish enough to touch her. She wept at me babbling nearly incoherently begging me to come aboard. Draigs but I wanted to. Sparrow was gone the least I could do was care for his lady. I could already see signs of Barbossa's neglect. I should be furious about that. That he should… do what he did to gain the ship only to abuse her. Part of me was but it was a distant clamor. Everything was distant as if someone had dropped a veil between the rest of the world and I. I tried to explain to her that I couldn't come aboard & take her away from 'them' no matter how much I wanted to. She KNEW that but was far too upset to remember it. _

_It took me hours to get her calmed down enough to give me anything resembling a coherent tale. Even then I knew it had gaps. Pearl was a dear lass but my own scrambled state when I built her didn't always render her completely intelligible or lucid. Sparrow did… had, had done, far better with her than I. Betrayed, bludgeoned, beaten, and marooned. That's all she could tell me. Sparrow had left with the strength to stand, hell the strength to swim from the ship to the island against the tide. Bloody but NOT dead, if Barbossa thought that would save him from my wrath he was sorely mistaken. The flicker of hope died before it could catch. I was a healer I knew how much Blood you could lose and live. There was FAR more Blood on the currents than Sparrow could spare and survive. If he lost it all at once, that piece of me that REFUSED to accept the truth protested. If that were the case then there should be a bright point. Draigs but I'd searched for the flare that would herald Sparrow's survival. It just bloody wasn't there. Aberath? Leaving aside Sparrow had no clue how to do it that would mean he was so close to death that… I'd almost prefer knowing that Sparrow had died quick and clean than imagining him going through the Hell an aberath would require._

_What she couldn't seem to tell me was WHERE Sparrow'd been marooned at least not in enough detail for me to puzzle out which of the specks of land it might be. How had all that Blood gotten into the water? Had he tried to swim from the island & been torn apart by sharks?_

_**NO!**__ Sea snapped I know that that one was more important than any other to you. No harm came to him in my care which can not be said for that ship!_

_That's my fault, that's ALL. MY. FAULT. After what the Revenge had done I'd made damn sure the Pearl would never play such tricks. Sparrow hadn't called her so all she'd been able to do was watch. Draigs! My poor girl. I knew, I knew just how much it hurt to watch someone you love in pain and be powerless to help. If Sparrow had just given the order. Except Sparrow didn't believe – and whose fault was that? Mine. All bloody mine. The winds brought me Barbossa's voice. Apparently he thought he could handle three women. As if. I drew a deep breath. I needed to get up there and avenge Sparrow. I sighed, my fingers brushed against Risanca. No, no, I wouldn't share this with them. Plain steel. I swallowed, fingers trembling. I needed to find out where, where they'd left him. Needed to find what was left of him. I owed my brother a decent burial. I listened to the gulls overhead. Anything but Barbossa and his band of miscreants celebrating with that benighted gold. Damn it! I snarled myself get up there and tear them apart! I wanted to. But sooner or later they'll have told me everything, sooner or later even necromancy wouldn't be able to keep what was left of them on this side of the veil. And then, and then I would have to…. as long as there wasn't a body in front of me I could pretend. I could imagine a hundred improbable ways he might have survived despite all reasonable evidence to the contrary. Once I had a body…. _

_When did I become a wilting violet? It wasn't as if people I loved hadn't died horribly before__**. **__My dead, so many dead, draigs, but I was so tired of people dying on me. I'm old, I'm so horribly old even if I'm not even grown yet. The walk over the surf and up the beach to the tavern Barbossa was carousing in was the hardest thing I'd ever done. _

_As I slipped silently onto the bench across from Barbossa I decided that whatever he was paying for his 'pleasurable company' it was too much. If the three of them had a tooth between them I wasn't able to spot it. I wanted a drink. I wanted a drink BADLY. I could smell absinth in the back room but I wasn't sure if I started that I'd be able to stop. Did I actually care if I ended up like Bledri? On further reflection skip the absinth I wanted chocolate, one of the whores tittered at one of the braying ass's meager jests. On second thought I'd pass on the chocolate right now. Peregrine would have caught up with me though by the time I was done giving Barbossa and his crew a tour of the lowest circle of Hell. I'd leave the sailing to Peregrine and get well and truly sleeping with the pigs and not noticing drunk on the way to the speck of land Pearl couldn't give me the bearings to. _

_Barbossa was so engrossed with his two bit whores it took him a full quarter of an hour to notice me. He froze his bladder emptying down his leg to puddle on the floor. I hadn't bothered with a Shadow. Three months of battle without a bite to eat had left me looking rather ghastly, like a skeleton wrapped in leather with tendons and ligaments like rigging beneath the wasted flesh. _

"_Apple?" he offered me the half eaten, slightly browned green apple he'd been chewing in between lip locks. I wasn't completely certain he wasn't feeding it to her given all the tongue action that had been going on. _

"_Ladies" there was a breathless, desperate note in Barbossa's voice but the initial shock was wearing off to be replaced by cunning. Even if he was as wiley as his great-great-great grandfather Thomas Cromwell (unlikely) he wasn't going to get out of this. I'd done for the old bulldog when every advantage was on his side. Barbossa might have the Cromwell Blood but he had a faint ghost of his magic. If he could see through a peasant's Shadow I would be impressed and while he was Bristol born I had yet to see any sign of a bent toward Wind or Wave. If Barbossa had enough of a Gift to hang a name on I'd seen no hint of it "the Prince and I hae matters te discuss."_

_I considered killing them as an aperitif but let them run. No sense in distracting myself from the main course. Besides if there was an afterlife and Sparrow could see what I was about to do he would be appalled enough without me adding a few hapless whores to the bloodshed. Sparrow was, had been found of whores._

"_So" he began with a nervous tic, his eyes taking in the plain dark garments and correctly divining the implications "Ye fought yer way through all o'them, I would have thought that nigh te impossible. Undoubtedly yer a bit…put out about the changes aboard the Pearl. I assure ye we put it te a proper vote. It was square with the Code."_

_I didn't trust myself to answer that much more coherently than Pearl was right now so I cast a Shadow of Pearl's Articles complete with Barbossa and his band's marks. I might not have been able to get aboard Pearl but they'd mockingly posted it on the captain's cabin's door in clear view when I'd been above her. One by one I ticked off the broken clauses in flames until nearly the entire document resembled Moses' burning bush._

_Barbossa glanced pointedly around the room, "__**I**__ never laid a hand on the lad, as I'm sure ye can tell."_

_And I hadn't thought my opinion of Barbossa could actually drop any lower. On the faint chance that I survived the Wild Hunts Barbossa had (with the notable exception of Bill) surrounded himself with the members of his crew who had actually drawn my little brother's Blood._

"_Where" my voice cracked like a broken thing "where is he?"_

_Barbossa's brow furrowed in confusion before his enaid lit up in a firestorm of relief and gratification. The fool thought he could __**BARGIN**__ with me after what he'd done? I'd thought he'd just coveted command of the Pearl (and he certainly had) but looking at his enaid I could tell there was something else going on as well. _

"_Why?" _

_He snarled as an old, cold, rage worthy of a Draig exploded through his enaid. I knew a personal vendetta when I saw it – how could I have missed it? Impressive. This was a man who could lie all the way to his soul. I'd never met anyone else dynol or Ellyllon who'd mastered the trick of it. His hatred of me ran deep but why? I'd gone out of my way this time to make as few enemies as possible, I could think of nothing I had done to earn such enmity nor had my Sire been wont to send dynol in the Wild Hunts. I was shamed to realize what a FOOL I had been. This snake had played me well in Torgua. All those Hunts, someone had been sending them tidings and keeping Sparrow there. Fool, FOOL, __**FOOL**__! ALL. MY. FAULT. Thomas Cromwell was well and truly avenged though I doubted Barbossa even knew his name._

"_Why? Why?! Do ye know how many dynol generations there are in a thousand years? Do ye know how long we waited for a Prince of the Blood to come and rescue us? And what did we finally get? We got __**you**__" his face twisted in disgust "and what did __**you**__ do?" he hissed "Did __**you**__ save us from our oppressors? Did __**you**__ restore the glory of the Old Ways? Hell did __**you**__ even stop them from burning us alive? No. No __**you**__ sided with __**them**__, __**you**__ spent all __**your**__ time and all __**your**__ power helping __**them**__. When __**you**__ did acknowledged __**your**__ own at all it was only te use us. And even then __**you**__ favored the annefnyddiol over the bonhedigg." He was right. I could say that after what Skeffington & Cromwell did to me I never trusted a Bonhedigg again. But I should never have judged the thousands of the Bonhedigg by two men who had been driven half mad by their lust for power. The Bonhedigg by Blood and loyalty had deserved every bit of the effort I'd devoted to Bess, Henri, & Guile if not more and I had given all of that effort to Goresgynnwyr. Was it any wonder a Bonhedigg would hate me? Favoring the Annefnyddiol had simply added insult to injury. All. My. Fault. All of this fore to aft, stem to stern. I stared at the battered wood of the table. My mistakes had gotten Sparrow killed. What the hell had I been thinking then and now? I was __**supposed**__ to be the Prince of Avalon. I knew, draigs, I knew what choices I should make, what the obligations of my position were, and had chosen to abandon them at every turn. I deserved the same fate as Charles the 1__st__. I had failed my people both over and under the Hill. Failed them utterly. I had no excuses to give._

"_He should have been your King" I whispered._

"_Aye, he should have" Barbossa growled "and ye certainly had the knowledge ta mold him inte one good and proper. Except ye didn't. Ye had a second chance te make up fer last time and ye squandered it. Ye want te know why yer brother is dead" he leaned in close to whisper "look in a bloody mirror" and then spat in my face. Oh Sparrow, you never should have had to pay my bill. This wasn't your fault. I barely paid attention as Barbossa towered over me. "I came to the Caribbean looking fer Kings te lead us and what did I find instead? Ye I didn't hae much hope for but I thought at least ye might have done right by the boy." Forgive me Sparrow but I never had the heart to do to you what they did to me and you died for my cowardice. Damn me to the lowest circle of Hell. Hadn't I been fretting about precisely this? That Sparrow's trusting ways and kind heart would be his undoing in his chosen profession. And what had I done to fix it? Nothing. _

"_Instead I find a daft fool who wants to play little games where no one gets hurt and everything has a happy ending. He was better off dead than being what you let him become. Poor little bleating lamb followed me right to the sla"_

_Suddenly I was no longer numb, all of the rage I should have been feeling rushed in as my teeth sank into Barbossa's hairy neck. _

Elizabeth frowned down the journal "Someone's ripped several pages out."

"Why would Prince Mallory rip pages from his own journal?" Commodore Norrington voiced my own question.

"Mayhap there was something in the pages he hoped te forget" Jack offered softly.

"There's a corner of this one left."

Allmyfault... T'isallmy fall faulll... fault... all myyyy fault... allllmy... fault. . Fault. All m fault... t'is allmyfault...alll... ev'ythin' MY fault_. Shldhaedonbttrrr. Allmmyfff. Imsssosorrrrry. I'm so sorry. Allmyfault. _Allmyfault... T'isallmy fall faulll... fault... all myyyy fault... allllmy... fault. . Fault. All m fault... t'is allmyfault_ Imsosorry. 'M's'ry. _

"_Rhys?"_

_Imsssssosssorrrry._ Allmyfault... T'isallmy fall faulll... fault... all myyyy fault... allllmy... fault. . Fault.

"_Rhys!"_

_Sh'ldhaedonbttr. I'm so sorry. Allmyfault. _Allmyfault... T'isallmy fall faulll... fault... all myyyy fault... allllmy... fault. . Fault. All m fault...

"_**RHYS!"**_

_?_

"_Rhys… we're here."_

_? Ohhh. Trrrr'd te ssssstandd. Whyarrreblk brds 'gnst my face? Oh, 'n thefllloorr. _

As Mallory tried to figure out how to get his hands under himself to get off his cabin floor we all got a view of the wreckage his cabin had become. Mallory had to be lying in the only spot not covered in empty absinth bottles. Jack winced at the sight of several books lying like flotsam in the mess. Mallory seemed to have come to the eventual conclusion that he was far too drunk to stand and tried his trick of clearing it from his blood. It took him a full six tries to finally be anything approaching sober.

_Draigs it looked like Sparrow… Jane's God I couldn't think of a thing I wouldn't give up to and including my life for Sparrow to be the one that had made this mess. For my little brother to still be alive. I shivered I could still feel Skeffington's hands on me, his voice in my ear, 'Sloppy gets you killed, maggot'. It took serious effort to not immediately start setting things back in order. Sparrow first. Following Sparrow's 'footsteps' I swam ashore only to find no Sparrow. I checked the island a dozen times but there was no body. I leaned against a palm, hope trying to flare. I searched again for a bright point that still wasn't there. I stepped away from the palm onto… boards under the sand? I heaved it up nose wrinkling – rum. I set it back in place disgusted at the amount of sand sticking to me. So the island was a cache for rum runners. Sparrow must have bartered passage off. I winced, all he had to barter was himself. Not a pleasant thought but I'd know the bastards when I found them. How was I going to find them? There were over three score different 'captains' who specialized in smuggling not to mention that I didn't know a single 'honest' merchant captain that wasn't willing to do a little business on the side if the price offset the risk. This place could be anyone's cache. With all the Blood in the water I couldn't trace Sparrow's trade either. All I could do was confirm it when I found them. So where to start? The Winds obviously but I didn't trust them exclusively for this work. Eventually all news made its way to Lorencillo, undoubtedly he already knew the fate of the Pearl maybe he knew what had happened to her captain._

_I reached for one of the few remaining bottles of absinthe before slinging it out the stern window. No, no way in Hell I was becoming Bledri. The rest of what was left followed suit. Regardless of how worthless a prince I was I was still the Prince of Avalon and I would not drown my troubles. I picked up one of the empties, using fire to melt the glass, ignoring how much it hurt my hands I twisted the softened glass into a sparrow. I'm sorry, I'm so damn sorry. I set it on a shelf and studied my ghastly, hadn't eaten in far too long reflection, only the eyes looked alive sunk far back into the hollows of my skull. I should have done better, little brother. Even thinking of doing what they'd done to me to Sparrow made my empty gut clench threatening to wretch up itself since there was nothing else in it. Henri had been a good man and a good king and no one had __**ever**__ put Henri through the things they'd done to me. Aside from a reasonable education (which I'd given Sparrow despite all his protests) Henri had been allowed to run half wild the first fifteen years of his life and had come through none the worse. Only because you were there to keep his foolish ass safe my reflection seemed to say mockingly. How many times did you have to save his life? Part of me had always expected to be there for Sparrow even though I knew I couldn't. I should have focused on making him hard, not good. I failed you Sparrow, I'm so sorry you're gone. But no matter how much it hurts I can't be sorry I didn't make you a monster. Please forgive me for that._

Elizabeth turned what was left of the page.

_I slid down the wall outside Marie's parlor listening to her weep and Lorencillo comfort her. I was still surprised word hadn't made it here yet. True Lorecillo was essentially retired from his pirating days but people still came to trade and talk. Except given Marie's reputation no one would have wanted to be the one to give her this news. I curled up in the empty hall, head on my knees wishing it was me in there instead of Lorencillo, wishing that there was no need to comfort her, wishing I wasn't the one who had had to tell her that a boy she'd loved nearly as much as I did was dead; but I wasn't Sparrow and I'd burned out the ability for my wishes to make any difference in the world long ago. She was refusing to believe it without a body and had all but thrown me off the plantation with orders not to return without him. A pair of dark knees blocked what view I had of the opposite wall. Sloppy but I didn't care, wasn't sure I'd care if Adola did gut me with one of her kitchen knives. _

_She reached down a hand. Don't ever let them touch you! And I didn't bother avoiding her. It completely disappeared under the Shadow. She grunted (manners were different in her father's long overthrown kingdom) and without so much as a by your leave tossed me over her shoulder. I shouldn't stand for it, I really shouldn't but in all fairness I'd done the same to her once upon a time, of course she had been a much heavier burden. I did make certain no one else saw. She plopped me down on one of the kitchen chairs and started cooking chatting all the while. Turn about is fair play. I'd kept Adola alive when she would have far preferred being dead. I'd given her back some measure of her self-respect, dignity, and sanity. I'd talked Marie into taking her on as a paid chef to run the kitchens (Adola sailed about as well as Mannwan) when she didn't look capable of chopping cassava. Reciprocity. Adola didn't wish any troubles on me but knowing I was faced with them refusing to let her fuss over me would only hurt her. I sighed and tried to eat the simple meal of plain eggs, toast, and juice but all it did was remind me of that first morning with Sparrow. I couldn't, I just couldn't. My hand started to shake. Adola ignored my sound of protest and to my shame I shook in her arms for hours. _

"There are at least 7 more pages missing" Elizabeth said before continuing.

_I leaned against the door glad to have the temptation of ripping Bootstrap to bloody quivering shreds gone for a little while. Yes I could lie all the way to my soul but that didn't mean I was enjoying being pleasant to him. Sparrow would want me to. I laid a hand on Sparrow's chest feeding him more power for all the good it did. The body was hail and whole but he was still dying. Damn good thing I could lie all the way to my soul otherwise Sea and Peregrine would be having fits if they knew what I was planning. His enaid frayed apart as quickly as I could knit it back. There was nothing actually wrong with it either. Spirit, soul, and body. The mind was more than just the brain. Sparrow's mind had broken & it was taking his enaid with it, it was only a matter of time until the body followed them. I wasn't Argellion. I was no mind healer. But I was all Sparrow had. I closed my eyes reaching deep in my memory. Argellion and I had discussed this once. Mannwan and I were supposed to be doing mounted maneuvers that afternoon and I had only been giving Argellion a tithe of my attention. Oh I remembered the lecture but hadn't bothered to ask any questions. I had a boat load of them now particularly since Argellion had been teaching me how to avoid this myself not to fix someone else. I hadn't realized it at the time but I knew damn well Argellion had done something to my mind. I reached in looking for signs of what he'd done so as to have some notion of what I was about to do and hit something else entirely. _

_Will's Dark Lady looked as sad as a crucifixion angel – when the hell had she been playing games in my head?_

'_After Rathlin' was the unspoken reply '__Iechydwriaeth medru dim trigo a cleddyf'_

_Healing hands must not wield the sword._

'_You were rapidly sliding into Gorffwyll. Another few weeks and you would have been madder and far more dangerous than your father and aunt combined.'_

'_You told Bess, that's why she sent me to Sea.'_

_A nod._

'_Are you really here or is this something you left behind?'_

'_I'm not even in this galaxy.'_

_I'd discovered in the library that the stars were suns just at very great distances and many had worlds like this one around them. Some of whom not just could but __**had**__ invaded in the past. The Dark Lady was our sole defender – and half alien herself. I knew if she was far afield it was with good cause but I would give joyfully give both arms to have her in this room. _

'_You might have warned me' she was also the greatest seer to ever live._

'_I have warned you, several times, only once have you ever listened. You will not now either but I had hoped for your sake you would not come down this road. Tonight all choices are bitter. '_

'_What are they?'_

'_Why should I bother – we both know the road you will take.'_

'_At least you won't be able to say you didn't warn me.'_

'_The choice of a King would be to take his enaid. You would sit on your father's throne within a week.'_

_If she had been here I would have been tempted to try to kill her just for suggesting it. _

'_What Nimrais has failed to mention is it would slowly destroy you. If you did not chose to take your own life you would be worse than your Sire by the turn of the next century. Sire a child, leave Argellion as regent, Avalon would be in good hands and with Argellion's tutelage your child would be a fine ruler.'_

'_Your second choice would be to let Sparrow fall, stay here, your Sire will not survive to the turn of the next century. You will spend the rest of your life trying to set right what he will have destroyed. You will fail, you will remain as you are, crippled and in pain for all of your days but one of your grandchildren would be the finest ruler Avalon will ever have.'_

'_And if I try to save Sparrow?'_

'_I give you a 3 in 5 chance of saving Sparrow but you are no mind healer. What you are going to attempt is far more dangerous to the healer and child, oh child Argellion and I did what we could for you but no one survives what you have uninjured. You are in nearly as much need of a mind healer as Sparrow. I give you a 2 in 5 chance of physically surviving but unless Sparrow's wishes make the nearly impossible possible you will be…"_

'_Like Meleri?'_

'_Drooling, at best.'_

_Oh. I swallowed._

'_You will have to risk everything and it is a bitter cup you are choosing to drink. You will have to make Sparrow's wounds your own.'_

_I shrugged 'They did nothing I haven't already endured.'_

'_Yes, some of them the very techniques your father used to break you.'_

_I hated her in that moment. No one else knew, not even the ones that had been torturing me. I'd slipped a Gorchmyn of my own in among His. I'd been as broken when I went into the carchar as I was when I came out – perhaps more. _

'_I dealt with it.'_

'_You can't lie to me' she said softly eyes I KNEW were metal filled with compassion but no pity. 'Shoving it away from your waking mind until it drives your subconscious half mad __isn't__ dealt with. You are powerful but even Ellyllon need more than an hour or two of rest a night. If you somehow manage not to shatter your own fragile psyche tonight trying to save your brother it is eventually going to be more than you can.' She held up a hand 'I am both the greatest seer and the greatest mind healer to ever walk this world. I would never presume to gainsay you about Sea. It __**will**__ become more than you can bear. While you are correct in your supposition that healing and mind healing derive from the same root gift they are as different in application as painting and dancing. And you are no painter. Even the attempt to mind heal is going to rip things apart in your own psyche regardless of whether you succeed or not. You have a will of adamant and substantial resilience if you were hale yourself I would give you even odds but you aren't.'_

'_I still have to try' I snapped._

'_I know' the Shadows that made her metal eyes and hands appear to be flesh vanished. I shivered at the quicksilver eyes but these held more kindness than I had ever seen 'I could have taken Argellion's lecture from you but I understand what it is to love a brother beyond all reason – and to drink the bitter cup because of it. Instead I've left you all the knowledge you need even if you don't have all of the skills to use it properly. Though it is a wild gamble you take tonight I also know what it is to face eternity as a cripple. Your __only__ chance to be hale and whole again is in an alliance with Sparrow against your sire.'_

'_I won't trade his life for my health.'_

_The Dark Lady started to say something but the alien side of her soul stopped her. She was silent for several breaths as human and alien clashed. The alien prevailed. I wondered what the human half of her wanted to tell me. This wasn't the first time what was left of the Star Kindler had held back what I suspected was vital information. I liked the Dark Lady but I damn well knew the Star Kindler had its own agenda for me. _

'_I have a protégé named Sean Burns who is currently at the __Kontumazhof in Vienna. He is Argellion's equal. Rhys, Rhys I am __**begging**__ you, write to him in my name and he will come. Rhys there is no shame in seeking assistance for those few skills to which you are not suited. Much of what troubles you is your shredded enaid but not all. You are doing an admirable job of clinging to your sanity but you are sorely wounded. Do you think your patients should feel ashamed when you bind their bleeding gashes?'_

_I glared at her Draig up and snarling. I had seen what I needed to and listened to more than I cared to. I drew a deep breath & severed my link to the journal._

I looked up the hair on the back of my neck prickling to find the same being Mallory had been talking to sitting on Sparrow's desk.

Jack drew a breath, started to speak, and stopped. Mark the calendar Captain Sparrow was speechless. I wasn't certain what to say either what Mallory knew of her, him, it? was tumbling through my own brain. Half human, half something else, something that fell from the Heavens. I'd sat through enough sermons to be wary if not terrified by that thought. It felt blasphemous to even consider the possibility that this was what remained of the entity that had crafted the original stars. God made the stars, right? It was ordered executed by the Elders at the request of the Eternal (apparently no Ellyllon actually knew what that meant), except that according to the library of Avalon energy could be neither created nor destroyed so they and ripped it into shreds too small to be aware. They'd missed one. Did that make it Satan? Was I in the actual presence of Satan? Who was a mind reader I reminded myself.

"There is neither need nor time for ceremony – call me Ari-El. I left this message ere I left Earth in your brother's mind and thence to the page. My apologies if my replies are inappropriate. You, Captain Sparrow are a quite powerful gwelt, you brother was born one though not nearly as potent, while he has burned out the ability space & time treat him as one. When you come together you are painful to even look upon. I have had to make several guesses as to when you will look upon this page and under what circumstances. Your brother thinks he destroyed this page but he isn't the only one who is clever with Shadows. Regardless of the timing I implore you to contact Sean Burns. If you can convey the importance to Sea she will find him no matter where he is right now. Once I touch I mind directly I have a connection to it – your brother is bleeding, he needs a mind healer as much has he needs back the pieces of his enaid."

"And why should I be trusting you, mate?"

"I am not in the habit of wishing others ill. And I have selfish reasons to help. I've a bitter cup of my own coming – I, and Earth, have a far better chance of surviving if your brother and a quiver full of his children are on my flank than anyone else. I want him hale and whole. If he tries to face your Sire with his mind as it is now he will be his own enemy. He can't afford that. Regardless of the conflict the damage adds to the suffering he is already in which is impressive. Please, I swear by all I have ever held dear Sean will do him no harm."

"How do we find him? It's been more than a decade since you told him where te find this Sean Burns."

The Shadow shimmered and cursed.

"Have Peregrine speak to Sea, put the message in a bottle. With your wishes to assist she will find him. He will come if you ask in my name. It is**, ****immeasurably**, more important now. Believe me when I say that it is the Sight of the Draig your brother carries that drove me to ensure their destruction. If that Draig had come into the world without someone to leash it" It shivered. "Having read this far you may think you know something of the Draigs allow me to assure you, you have seen nothing. While his control over his Draig has weakened from time to time it has never been free. If your brother truly and irrevocably gives up the leash will slip, his Draig's first act, Captain Sparrow, will be to take your enaid and that will be its gentlest act. Your brother is a far, far better man than he has ever given himself credit for to have held the beast within in check so long and so well."

"What happened te me brother?"

"She loved her father dearly, her Draig is weak, she became fond of your brother despite her best intentions and against its instincts. She has returned from the dead with one goal - to save her father's kingdom. She NEEDS your brother and loves him, you are just a pawn on the board and your brother knows it. I advise you to be wary of her but she IS a talented seer and far closer to events than I am. She knows from her days as Maid Marion on her taithe that she can lie to you even if she can't to your brother. She doesn't speak current English but her Latin is excellent."

"Good te know, now about me brother?"

"I know that there **is** a way. I tried, diligently, and at risk of my own sanity to find it. Fate has a sense of irony and Luck loves a good paradox it would not surprise me if they put you in the same desperate position your brother was in when he healed your mind – a desperate gamble and a willingness to lay down your own life in his stead. Or I could be completely wrong."

"Why is me brother in such dire straights?

"Don't waste my time you have the journal for that."

"So have ye been answering incorrectly on purpose or not?"

It merely looked amused before sobering "You mustn't let your Sire take you alive. Either of you." With that it was gone.

Elizabeth flipped the page there was none of the feel of the journal it was as if she was simply reading a regular letter.

"_It is a far better thing that I do than I have ever done a far better rest I go to than I have ever known." __Bullshit __Neidr__. _

_Sparrow if you're reading this then I am either dead or drooling. I'm not certain which is the worse possibility. You undoubtedly have many questions and are grumbling about me using 20 words where one would do. It runs in the family little brother. Yes, you read that right. Take a good look because when you read those words my Shadow will drop._

"Lizzy, pass over the journal if ye please."

Jack made a point of reading aloud before bolting for the deck.

Anna-Maria's eyes were wide when we arrived as she leaned against the door.

"I take it his Shadow is down?"

She nodded with a grim expression.

"Step aside Luv" she brushed a hand across his cheek before moving out of the way. The niche Mallory was in (it didn't deserve the name cabin) was too tiny to allow anyone but Jack in. Commodore Norrington and I ended up flanking the door. Sweet Jesus he looked dead. It was one thing to know he was thin, I'd CARRIED him but as Mallory'd commented several times dynol belied their eyes not their hands and I was no different. That his skin was wrapped so tightly 'round his bones that you could count his teeth through his cheeks wasn't a surprise as such but it hurt to see it. What was a surprise was how… weathered and ragged he was. The silver outfit was tarnished nearly black, portions were unravelling apparently having been worked loose by windblown sand. His hair was a solid mass of flotsam & jetsam. At first I thought his eyes were open before I realized that while his eyelids had shriveled his eyes hadn't leaving nearly half of his cat slitted irises exposed even with them closed. He wasn't breathing right either. Even asleep he looked pained. Jack laid as much of a hand as the snarled hair and the crown allowed on Mallory's forehead and murmured something. Some of the tension bled out of him as he went truly limp.

"Captain Sparrow" Commodore Norrinton began.

"Fetch a blanket" Jack growled to the crowd at large. Mr. Not Cot…Henri leapt to obey.

"Pearl, luv, could ye have Sea fill the tub."

"What did"

Jack threw one of Mallory's boots at the Commodore where it spilled a fair bit of sand across the black boards.

"I sent him te sleep, dreamless sleep. He wasn't resting, not properly, not really. And yes I took advantage I doubt I'd ever manage it with him on his guard. He needs rest Commodore. Then while Lizzy finishes reading the bloody journal I'm going to get him cleaned up. He's been here for bloody days and he didn't even bother to dump the benighted sand out of his boots. And in case yer nose isn't as sensitive as mine he actually has a bit of a pong. None o' which is in keeping with me fastidious brother's nature. I'm thinking there's no sense in pretending we didn't read the journal, not after this, and I can't imagine he wouldn't feel better waking up clean."

Jack wrapped him up so thoroughly in the blanket you could barely tell there was an Ellyllon swaddled in there before taking him below. Elizabeth rolled her eyes but dutifully turned her back while I went to war trying to get him out of his outfit. Sand had worked its way in everywhere. Silver wasn't iron it shouldn't have done this. I glanced at Jack.

"He'll stay asleep."

Elizabeth went back to reading.

_I am (was?) an Ellyllon. We share a father but your mother was human. I don't know who she was because I our Sire had me locked in a two by two by two foot cell for the better part of eight decades when you were conceived. Beware of Him Sparrow. Our Sire is a monster. Your mother gave her life to get you away from Him. I don't know what he wants you for Sparrow but it can't be anything good. If I'm dead then be doubly wary for my presence will no longer hide you from Him. Bleed my body dry, have Wind and Sea scatter it for you. It will buy you a little time. Pearl was built to keep you safe from Him._

I finally got the doublet loose. I winced to see it like this, it had been magnificent in Mallory's memories and Shadows.

_If you command her she will have no trouble clearing her decks of the vermin currently aboard. I'm not 'daft' because I do magic Sparrow, I'm daft because of what our Sire did to me. Besides you're already daft anyway so what exactly are you worried about?_

_If I'm drooling things are far more dangerous. Once you've regained the Pearl leave me on Peregrine and have him stay close. I doubt your wishes can save me, but I'd appreciate the effort. _

_You'll be wondering exactly what happened since the last thing in your memory will be embarking with the rum runners. You'll also undoubtedly be a bit put out when you note that I've removed the pages that detail what happened to you. Some acts leave wounds that go deeper than to mere flesh. The damage they wrought was killing you despite my best efforts at more mundane healing. Magical talents vary, you're at your best with Wind & Wishes, I with Sea & Fire, what you needed wasn't something that is, that was, in my usual repertoire. This ISN'T your fault, Sparrow. Whatever has happened to me I made my own choice with my eyes open. You're probably furious with me – I know when I was in a similar position once upon a time I certainly was. Forgive me Sparrow for all of this. I thought about just leaving a letter and keeping the journal sealed (heretofore if you actually had managed to lay hands on it you'd have seen nothing but blank pages) but you deserve more answers than I have time to give you. _

_I'm not who you think I am Sparrow. You're going to learn things I've done, that never mind not proud of, that I'm horrified by. The worst I never even let darken these pages. Children know hypocrisy when they hear it, in trying to set an example for you I became a better man than I had ever been. At least for a little while, you would be appalled at what I did to Barbossa and the men who laid hands on you. Bill can fill you in on the curse (I leave him to you mostly unharmed as a parting gift). Barbossa has chosen to interpret my curse as requiring him to repay the gold and the blood to the Aztec gods instead of to you as intended (terribly sloppy of me not to define a curse properly I'm usually more careful than that) and it will work. _

_There are is so much more I should say but there is no more time if I'm to save you. Don't blame yourself for any of this Sparrow, it's my bloody fault fore and aft, and just that I'm the one that bore the cost._

_Wind in the Sails, Safe Ports, Precise Courses, & Brilliant Dawns to you little brother._

I was certain he couldn't possibly slee_p through the wrestling match with his tunic but he did. The harder we pulled the more the cloth seemed to cling to him, slithering like a serpent, as tight as a boa around its prey. "Please" I finally pled in frustration and was abruptly holding the tunic. _

_"Guess it just wanted te be asked nicely" Jack observed before moving on to the belt "So if I asked nicely" Jack yanked his fingers back as both of the draigs on Risanca's hilt went after him "Any suggestions?"_

_"I'll handle it" Jack nodded and went looking for something on the other side of the cabin leaving me with both of them glaring at me with their jewel eyes._

_Come on, Sparrow, don't you dare make all of this for nothing – I will follow you into death. I might not be a mind healer, I might not be trained, but I AM a necromancer and I WILL find a way to DRAG you back. Do you hear me? _

_ I frowned at the journal and tried to restore its protections. It SHOULD have worked. It didn't. I could practically taste Sparrow's wishes swirling through the room. I was just thankful that the ones that wanted me well had apparently stolen a march on the ones that wanted the journal. Draigs, could all of this have been a convoluted attempt by his wishes to get the journal? Hey guys if he dies he won't be able read it, it'd be a little pointless don't you think? A flutter but if they did anything I could not discern it. Damn it, Sparrow! I might not be able to easily use the knowledge the Dark Lady had left me but I could tell Sparrow's mind was…significantly better. From what the Dark Lady had shown me my work was neither perfect nor elegant but it ought to be sufficient. Key word being ought. I was in largely uncharted territory, navigating a course based on second hand insights left behind in my own mind more than a century ago by a being that for all her human mien was in many ways far beyond my ken. It wasn't that I thought she meant either of us ill it was just, damn, I just, didn't like relying on anyone else. Especially ton new war rapping saw den riccolo._

_Agnar nearly got me as we all looked up at Elizabeth, that wasn't his enaid, and whatever it was it wasn't good. Something was seriously wrong with Mallory. It wasn't until several seconds later that he seemed to sluggishly pick up on it. Time seemed to flow, stretch, and warp as Mallory reacted at a snail's pace to whatever was wrong. I went back to trying to get Mallory's sword belt off while Elizabeth clearly went looking for Mallory's recovery. It wasn't just the two on Risanca that were giving me trouble, the buckle itself while beautifully worked was downright nasty and viciously fast. And that sword, just being near that sword raised every hair on my body. The thing was evil. Pulsating, roiling, purified, distilled evil. I backed off for a moment. I had read the treatises Mallory had written for me until the pages were worn. Whenever I'd been truly baffled by something in them the answer would come to me in the night accompanied by half remembered dreams of a blond haired man and a young Noman. Knowing what I did now I was certain that those treatises held memories the same way the journal did only somehow hidden from my waking mind. Could I tease out what I needed to know while awake? The buckle seeming to sense I was about to try something narrowed its eyes, growled, and sent out a plume of smoke and fire that had us all scrambling back. _

_Commodore Norrington sputtered glaring at Jack who shrugged "Yer cravat was ablaze, mate." The Commodore just heaved a long suffering sigh. _

_"Any thoughts, whelp?"_

_"Give me minute."_

_"Yer thinking a nap might help?" Jack asked no more than three breaths after I closed my eyes. _

_"Maybe, Mallory left me copies of Mannwan's lessons. When I was really stumped I'd dream of a man with blond hair and a young Mallory. I was hoping, with a few moments of quiet, I __might__ be able to get to the memories without being asleep."_

_ "Or I could give ye a hand as it were."_

_Apparently now that he was convinced that magic itself wasn't going to land him in Mallory's condition Jack was eager to test the abilities he'd been denying. Having no desire to be the victim of a magical mishap, particularly with Mallory already so deeply insensate at Jack's hands, I begged off. Jack's face fell a little. I closed my eyes determined not to be taken in, I didn't want to wake just in time to meet my grandchildren._

_ My God, what the forge looked like through Mallory's eyes. I was suddenly intensely jealous. All the things I had to feel out Mallory could just __**see**__. Then I remembered the hell he'd ended up entangled in and I wasn't jealous at all._

_Mannwan frowned and snapped the blade Mallory presented him._

_Now I was the one that frowned that had been a nearly flawless piece of work, perfectly balanced, the purity exquisite, the folding precise, the hilt & pommel a work of absolute art. _

_"Flawed rubbish"_

_While Mallory retained his aplomb outwardly he was cringing and mortified. He couldn't see what was wrong with the blade, and frankly neither could I. _

_"You are the __PRINCE__ of __AVALON__, not some Outlander trash. Do __**NOT**__ present me work any marginally competent blacksmith with no gifts could forge."_

_I knew what barely capable blacksmiths produced and Mallory's short sword had been worthy of a master sword smith. _

_Mannwan turned back to the forge gesturing to two gleaming piles, one of small, flat strips of silver the other of something I'd never seen before._

_"Hair from unicorn's tails, they are sent as tribute. Ceremonial attire for the Royal House is always woven from unicorn hair." He heated the silver briefly before using a spindle to smoothly ensheathe the unicorn hair in a seamless coating of silver but it went beyond that, I could feel the magic swirling through the strand both from Mannwan and from what I assumed was the unicorn._

_"Do you think you can handle the rest of them?" the words were a challenge that Mallory's Draig came roaring up to meet. Mallory watched as Mannwan made an alloy of silver I'd never seen before. Instinct told me that it would be stronger, far stronger, than pure silver, perhaps even stronger than steel. Mannwan didn't even bother with the hammer or forge he molded the metal with will alone. _

_Mannwan offered the buckle still unfinished to Mallory who slashed his palm letting the blood pool before pouring it over the metal. Eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration Mallory finished what Mannwan had begun ending with awakening the buckle_

_So it was a full lledrith, not a surprise given the whole fire breathing episode. While this was fascinating & I could honestly watch the forge through Mallory's eyes for a month it wasn't getting me any closer to figuring out how to get past the thing. I didn't want to cut the belt (I honestly wasn't certain we could & we'd __**never**__ be able to fix it)._

_Before giving Mannwan a hopeful look. The buckle snapped and smoked at Mannwan just as it had at us, except he mastered it with little more than a flick of the wrist and an arched brow at Mallory, "That's little more than child's trick."_

_I blinked my eyes. Mannwan may have counted it as little more than a child's trick but I was less than assured of my ability to repeat the move even if I suspected it was within the scope of my gift. I also wondered if Mallory had actually been half as bad with Earth as he thought – or if Mannwan's impossible standards had under cut his confidence to the point it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. There were no words for just how glad I was to have had Mallory with his patience and subtle teasing instead of Mannwan with his implacable demands as my mentor. _

_"Mr. Turner?" I ignored the Commodor and caught Jack's eyes instead "wish me luck?"_

_"Always, Whelp". If there was power behind it I didn't feel it. I drew a deep breath. Before this I'd always imagined magic involving rituals, incantations, and sacrifices, and for the juju it did but for Mallory it usually seemed to be little more than an act of focused will after pulling power from his enaid. I wasn't going to get past the buckle without magic and even after all of the journal reading we'd done I didn't know how to use __**my**__ magic. Or did I?_

_I presented the blade with a flourish. We'd been working on this sword alone for over a week, and I was sure we'd finally gotten it right. Mallory tested the balance, the temper, the polish, the tang, the pommel, the grip, the guard before laughing with delight "Now it needs to be finished."_

_I looked at him in confusion._

_"All Great Swords have hearts, you haven't given this one its yet."_

_I gave him a dubious look._

_"Didn't you ever learn any fairy tales?" he sighed, "William Turner, you have skill to make excellent swords, but you also have the gift to make them swords worthy of legend." He held out his hand for mine. I didn't even feel the prick but a drop of blood glided down the keen edge before he wrapped my fingers around the grip. "A blade, tang, hilt, guard, grip are just what a sword needs they aren't what a real sword IS. So, William Turner, what is this sword?"_

_"I don't understand."_

_His hand joined mine over the hilt as he stepped behind me, odd I could swear I felt rings but he clearly wasn't wearing any. He was a strong, solid warmth at my back, actually too warm – was he feverish? as he whispered "close your eyes and __hear__ me." _

_An odd request but I trusted Noman. A firm hand on the center of my back, "This is your center" suddenly it was as if I could feel my heart. Not the one that beat in my chest though, more like the one they talked about in church. I'd never really understood that until now. "That's just the core, like your physical heart it touches every part of you" I drew a breath, uncomfortable was this witchcraft? and fascinated "but it doesn't have to end there. The sword is an extension of your hand, it's part of you. Find it. Good. Now what is this sword for?"_

_"To kill pirates" I growled._

_He sighed, even with him behind me and my eyes closed I could feel his disappointment and his sorrow._

_"They're evil" I nearly wailed in protest._

_"Some of them" he allowed "but when you set your hand to the hilt is all you want to hear bloodlust?"_

_"No?" I didn't actually see what was wrong with that, it was a SWORD._

_"If you were facing your first pitched battle what would you want as reassurance?" he asked._

_I adjusted my fingers and tried to push that from my heart to my fingertips. "Better" he whispered in my ear before backing away. "May I?" _

_I opened my eyes and it back to him "Indefatigable."_

_Indefatawhat?_

_"It means tireless and unyielding, that which perseveres despite insurmountable odds. Now it's perfect. It suits you, or it will when you've grown a bit more. Don't sell this one. It's yours."_

_I'd always felt a bit embarrassed about it but every so often a blade would seem to NEED me to repeat Noman's, Mallory's instructions. I gathered myself, like a child who puts his head under the covers what the buckle couldn't see it wouldn't acknowledge but its eyes could only be closed with magic. I hoped I still had fingers after this as I struck as quickly as I could and wasted no time pulling the sword belt free of his wasp-like waist. _

_Jack flashed me a cocky, knew you could do it grin as I reached for his remaining boot which I instantly dropped in surprise._

_"Is something amiss Mr. Turner?_

_"It's crying."_

_"Boots do not…nevermind. Mrs. Turner if you would kindly continue."_

_Icky. Dirty. The floor is dirty. I'm lying on the floor. The dirty floor. Why am I lying on the dirty floor? Oh, my third aneurism of the hour. If it wasn't for Sparrow's 'don't die' wish the first two would have killed me. People don't survive simultaneous catastrophic ruptures of both the anterior and posterior cerebral arteries. Not even healers of my caliber, especially when all of that skill was directed away from themselves. Thank you for my life little brother. _

_I tried getting off the floor, still too dizzy. I closed my eyes against the blindingly bright lamp light. I didn't want to put it out in case Sparrow woke up. I didn't want him waking up in the dark. Draigs my head still hurt. I needed to go back over every artery in my brain. I must have been sloppy the first time after I finished with Sparrow and missed a bleeder. That one had been slow, it might not have killed me but it had come far too close to leaving me drooling. I tried to brace myself for it but the pain was, was, was, oh Jane's God, God. It's just a body, just body, nevermind it's yours just do what needs to be done. One bleeder repaired only for another to rupture, and another, and another, and another, and another…._

_I lay panting and trembling but finally certain my brain was no longer a sieve. Next time the Dark Lady gave me advice I would be taking it. I honestly wasn't certain if I'd known, really known, what I was getting myself into that I'd have done it, even for Sparrow. Surviving was only the first hurtle. My brain was restored but that didn't necessarily mean that there weren't going to be equally severe consequences to my mind. I swallowed hard thinking of Her, of Him, of Meleri. Draigs, I didn't want to lose my mind. Better dead than mad. I would be far too dangerous to leave alive if I truly went over the edge. I started to get up but decided the floor really wasn't all that dirty… actually it was but it still wasn't worth moving my head. I had Wind flip the spare blanket within reach and moving as little as possible shoved it under my caught between a hammer and anvil head and slipped my arm gingerly over it since the lamp light hurt even with my eyes closed._

_DRAIGS! Wind was louder than the day I'd escaped the carchar. It was like lances and shattered glass through my raw brain to the point I couldn't even register what it was trying to tell me. And then it sank in. Oh hell's bells. I might have been ready to cheerfully tear Bill himself apart but I didn't want to be the one to tell him this. I could see in his enaid just how much he loved his wife. This would do more than gut him. With a fast ship and a direct passage he might get there in time to hold her one last time and to grieve with his son. But he needed to leave NOW. I pulled myself to my feet before I could lose my nerve. It's just a body & despite the dancy lights and bizarre echoes everything works. You are the Prince of Avalon get the hell up and do what needs to be done. I sent Winds questing for updates on which ships would be in either New York or Lisbon next week. I could take him that far on the Peregrine, buy them just a little more time. I'd been stunned when I'd sent Puck Robin to save him to discover his bride was a bud of the White Rose. Not THE current White Rose of course, that was the 7__th__ Rhys Norrington, but still a descendent of Henry. She'd married scandalously down as far as the dynol were concerned. I hadn't been able to do much for them, hadn't even dared to watch over them lest I draw unfriendly attention to them. Damn but I wanted to just sail up the bloody Thames and, actually I just wanted to sail up the bloody Thames period. I wanted to go __**HOME**__. I loved traveling & being at Sea but I hadn't been back home in ever so long. It would be a bittersweet homecoming at best but still…_

_I shook my head and immediately, truly, profoundly, and whole-heartedly regretted it. So…umm… collect Bill, get Sparrow back to the Peregrine, and get underway. Keep it simple. My brain wasn't up to complicated. I pulled open the door & had Wind carry my whisper down to the Inn's errand boy. It was a struggle not to kill the boisterous little brat. To be fair he'd been neither particularly boisterous nor bratty. I curled up to wait for Bill's return. A quick glance at Sparrow revealed no change. He ought to be awake, but he wasn't. I pulled the journal out. Will had always been a good listener but no sooner had I set nib to page than Sparrow finally stirred. I couldn't even breathe as I watched, waited, and desperately hoped I hadn't done something worse than kill him._

_"Sparrow?" Please, please, be alright. He ignored me completely except for a snarl as he rose from the bed. I was fairly certain he had no idea where he intended to go other than out. I drew a breath so Sparrow did have a draig. Most adhil didn't, hell more than half of the nobility didn't, heretofore I'd seen no sign of one in Sparrow. I'd envied him that. So I'd gotten back a draig – but had I gotten back Sparrow with it? If I hadn't I was going to have to kill, to kill, to kill….it. _

_"Please talk to me Jack" I didn't call him Jack, at least not often, I saved it for when I REALLY needed his attention. _

_"Get out of me bleeding way" Sparrow was in there, it wasn't just the draig. The draig was up and Sparrow was more furious than I'd ever seen him but he was still __**Sparrow.**__ Suddenly my pounding head and near death mattered not at all. I'd do it all again in an instant. I'd delivered a fair few infants in my time until now I'd never really understood how in the moment you put their child in their arms seconds after they'd been screaming in agony it was all suddenly irrelevant. I did now. I wanted to turn bloody handsprings, dance with the stupid aura lights, and sing with the echoes. I just needed to calm Sparrow down, we'd get Bill on his way, then sort out Barbossa & the Pearl. Everything was going to be fine. _

_"Why don't we go back to your room for a bit, Sparrow?" I said soothingly trying to back the draig down a little when the world went white with agony before going black._

_Sparrow's draig glared down at me. When had Sparrow gotten so tall? _

_"I'm going out. __**Don't follow me**__." __Gorchymyn, it bit deep, cast with full intent to hurt. It didn't __**have**__ to. Though apparently Sparrow like his father neglected that fine point. Argellion had taught me how to do it so lightly that they would never even know what they were doing wasn't their own idea. Insidious. What the blazes was THAT behind Sparrow? He let go of my jaw and as my head hit the floor, draigs, draigs, I realized I was lying in a spreading pool of my own blood at the bottom of the stairs. I tried to rise & follow but the gorychymyn tightened its grip, white agony & darkness._

_Gagging, choking, I tried to run but I didn't even twitch. Whatever that thing had been behind Sparrow it filled the stairwell with its presence. None of the dark and twisted things I had faced in my life had even come close to this. And it had just saved my life. I'd have drowned in my own blood if it hadn't roused me. A malevolence. Jane's God, it was a malevolence. Whatever it was Sparrow had wished when he hit me, he'd brought forth a malevolence. Damn, Sparrow – what did you wish? A simple ill-wish wouldn't have brought forth – that. When Christians talked about witches calling up demons __**THIS**__ was what they were talking about. Even the most twisted of the cyfae feared them. They were not of this world. Legend held their summoner could banish them, perhaps even control them but if there was a way to fight one I'd never heard of it. Aside from maybe Holy Water and a banishing. I tried to scoff and ended up choking on blood again. Clever and twisted from what I read what they did to their summoners didn't bear thinking about either. Draigs, Sparrow, what have you done? I tried to rise, to follow Sparrow, to get him to call this thing to heel but the Gorchymyn nearly pulled me back down into unconsciousness again. Clearly mind healing was not my forte. I was bleeding to death and the collapsed lung wasn't doing me and favors either. The thing just watched me, waiting patiently but for what I did not know. So heal myself, find Bill, and get him to talk to Sparrow. Except it blocked me. Not entirely, instead of dying in the next few minutes I had an hour, maybe two at best before I bled out. Had Sparrow really wanted me to die slowly and alone?_

_I closed my eyes but the damn lights keep dancing on the inside of the lids. And the echoes just would not stop. Bloody annoying that. I'd drug myself as far from the corner the malevolence was crouched in as I could before trying and failing to get to my feet. There was no such thing as an unwinnable fight. It had made the mistake of not striking when it could. To hell with sending it back – I was going to destroy it. I wrapped my fingers around Risanca but lacked the strength to draw it. So we watched each other as I knit my chest together at a snail's pace._

_The whole stairwell suddenly brightened and not just because of the lamplight. The Lighthouse Spell I'd set so long ago on several of Bill's ancestors to echo in their descendants seemed to bother it. Didn't seem to actively hurt it but it wasn't happy about Bill's arrival that was damn sure. It gathered itself, glaring at him. I had NO clue what would happen if necromantic curse, familial blessings, and enaid anchor point plowed into lurking spawn of the nether world and wasn't particularly eager to find out while lying wounded on the floor below. _

"_Stay back" draigs but that sounded pathetic. Of course NOW would be the moment that Bill decided to ignore a direct order. Except with the scariest grin it had ever been my misfortune to witness it departed. It hadn't gone far, I could still taste the WRONGESS of it at the back of my throat overlaying the intense copper of my own blood. It was close. A little strength returned and I yanked Risanca free._

"_What are ye going te do with that?" having Risanca unsheathed was utterly pointless but I felt better with a weapon in my hand. _

_Bill's worried face hove into view as he reached down. *Don't __ever__ let them touch you, never let them see you bleed* I grabbed his arm & with the extra leverage managed to regain my feet._

"_Follow Jack" I whispered trying not to cough. Damn him, Bill just stood there staring at the blood. We needed to get Sparrow back here before things got worse._

"_Where are you injured?" Bill breathed back looking stricken. Was he that concerned for me? Of course the fact I was still using him to stay upright wasn't likely to reassure him that I was fine so I took a step back._

"_Where are you injured?" he snapped, frustrated, frightened, and worried. Damn it I wasn't getting through to him. _

"_It's nothing – go find Jack" Bill didn't move "Please" I didn't beg often "and be careful he's not himself."_

_Now Bill's anger flared but not against me "Jack did this te ye didn't he" it wasn't a question. Not Sparrow, his draig, the draig he had no idea how to control because I'd had no idea he had one, had __**NEVER**__ taught him how to deal with it. Of course I'd never mentioned the Gorchymyn either and that certainly hadn't stopped him from inflicting one on me. _

"_You need to find him before…." Unconsciousness beckoned and I nearly crumpled. I'd much rather face the malevolence on 'ground' of my choosing "I'll meet you aboard the Grine."_

"_Bullocks – I'll bring Jack here" no, no, to the Sea._

"_Not safe" the world was spinning and darkening around the edges, please, please stop worrying about me and just DO AS I ASK._

"_Then I'll see you to the Peregrine first." _

_My own Draig flared at that "I'm fine. And will meet you at the dock."_

_The Winds swirled in bearing the scent of Sparrow's Blood and voices raised in anger. I tried to go, except the Gorchymyn tightened its grip. I'd never make it. I'd sworn to never, ever do this but Bill wasn't listening to me and despite everything Sparrow was going to die. I slipped in trying to be gentle but I'd never actually done this before. Bill went at a flat out run. Good, good, now I just had to make it down to the docks. _

Elizabeth paused as Mallory moaned in tub twisting away from Jack.

"I thought you said he would remain asleep" the Commodore snapped as cat slitted eyes slid open for a moment before Jack laid a hand on Mallory's forehead again. You could tell Mallory, only half aware, tried to fight him but Jack won. Elizabeth skipped ahead.

"_No we" Sparrow's draig hissed. Even though I was ready for it this time Sparrow still got his claws into me "__Now that I have yer attention we're going ta have a new accord. First no more bloody healing aboard this ship today. Second, I will get the Pearl back all by me onesies without yer bloody help. Third get out of me bloody life."_

_Oh hell, bloody hell, Sparrow wasn't going to listen if I told him about the malevolence, not until he was ready. The second __Gorchymyn ordering me out of his life __**BURNED**__ as I fought it to bespell the whistle and slide it into his pocket, creating a loop hole in the command, a way back. Please, Sparrow, please call soon I've no idea what that thing is going to do but it can't possibly be anything good._

11


	36. Chart Without Course

**Author's note: **To the 20 or so still reading my apologies that this has taken me so long. Thank you for sticking around and I hope you enjoy!

Blood of Avalon: Chapter 21: Chart without Course

_He turned on me. I knew that some of Meleri's prophecies warned that he might but I'd never actually expected him to __**DO**__ it, not my Sparrow. The ill-wish that had called up the malevolence had been his draig but the second gorychymyn when he threw me out of his life – that had been Sparrow. I laid my head in the hollow of Sea's neck and shoulder. I was the Prince of Avalon. I was born to privilege which carried with it specific obligations. I sighed, not today, I'd be the Prince of Avalon tomorrow._

_*You've never really been – are you actually going to start?* Nimrais mocked *And why are you astounded? Of course he turned on you. He's a draig – it's what we __**do**__.*_

"_It's what you __**did**__. In case you missed it, that's why you're extinct. And not against teulu."_

_*Not __**necessarily**__ against teulu. Besides you never told the boy who he was.*_

"_Teulu is more than Blood."_

_*Teulu is nothing __**but**__ Blood. What is it the dynol say? 'Blood is thicker than water'.*_

_I closed my eyes, the echo effect was finally gone but the pounding in my head and the dancy lights persisted. Granted had been less than a day since my first (and __**LAST**__!) foray into mind healing. Hopefully they would fade given a little more time. According to Peregrine Sparrow had yet to regain consciousness but that wasn't necessarily unexpected. The injuries had been devastating and the ruddy, bloody fool hadn't let me finish my work. My head had no doubt that he would survive but damn it all I wanted to see it with my own eyes._

_*Sniveling, ungrateful little brat, and you were a blind fool to ever delude yourself*_

_I whirled on him throwing everything I was into the grey no-place where the Shades of dead Draigs dwelt. I caught him in the head with my tail spikes before he even knew I was there hard enough to flip him onto his back. I was on him in a flash but he matched my speed twisting away trying to bring his teeth to bear. I beat him at the turn sinking my teeth deep into the thinner scales at his throat latch, tearing deep in what would be a killing blow – if he hadn't been dead for millennia. The icy cold of the dead flowed up my jaw making my teeth scream in their sockets, I answered with living flame as I shook him like a shark with seal. His riposte was a wave of raw power meant to cast me off. Seemed a rather amateur and desperate move. Regardless I dug in and the force sent both us rolling across the inner court of Great Gate. This was probably as close as I was going to get to going home and I was doing in the realm of the dead, undead, what the hell ever. I'd taken enough bullshit off of Nimrais. Enough, enough, enough, enough, enough. No more. I made certain he was the one that slammed into one of the orthostats. I scrambled out of the way before the lintel stone could land on me. As I wondered if the damage we did here would be reflected Over the Hill. Nimrais leapt over the stone spewing cold fire. Now, THAT was really pointless. I think he was angrier than I was. I hoped the damage didn't transfer, the graves of my ancient ancestors and Riggion kin had suffered more than sufficient insults at the hands of the Christians. I reared up on my hind legs swinging my head around using it as a club this time, my brow ridge caught him precisely on the thinnest part of his skull, I felt his fragile cranium give even as one of my spines snapped off. He screamed. I hadn't been certain I could do him any real harm given the whole dead for millennia thing. I grinned (as much as a draig's jaw could) when I noticed the broken brow ridge had pierced his eye. Petty but that was the one I'd let myself fall into as a very young fool. Was this really all Nimrais had? Nimrais had been by far the most feared of the Geat Draigs but how powerful had he actually been? Clearly less so than Agnar but his wit far outstripped Agnar's (granted that wasn't saying much. I was fair certain Pearl could think rings 'round Agnar. Blast Sparrow for touching Risanca – he might have gone his entire life without the Red Draig ever realizing he lived)._

_He scuttled backwards out of the uprights and beyond bluestones toward the Dike, the Moat, and the Circle of Oak that confined the Shades within the Gate. The Shades of the Draigs could use and appear to those through whom the Blood flowed but as long as the Circles held the Shades themselves were confined within the interlocking rings of the Gate. I hesitated, having no desire to be the one that restored their liberty (though what WOULD a pack of Driag Shades __**do**__? The Draigs had died over eight thousand years ago but the Gate and Circle were less than six thousand – why the gap if it was so vital to keep them caged? Regardless, best to leave that a hypothetical question – besides someone had gone through a great deal of trouble to create the Great Gate – there must have been a damn good reason). I hesitated but having begun this ill-advised battle I had no intention of backing down until I'd taught Nimrais his place – right under my claws… except would it be wise to humiliate the White Draig? Clearly not but my own Draig would not yield either – that inability to back down was what had destroyed the Draigs in the first place but I just could NOT do it. And Nimrais wouldn't stop, troth couldn't stop either, as I'd pointed out there was a reason draigs were extinct. So how did I stop this now that I'd started it? He glared at me as I leapt out of the Circle going unimpeded where he could not follow. So what was the wise move, aside from not starting this folly in the first place?_

_Above the Oaks were long gone, here they were thriving, with girths greater than any living tree. I could only catch glimpses of him between their colossal trunks as he snarled and growled in impotent rage. I took a breath I had a draig but I __was__ an Ellylon._

_Even as an Ellylon I could barely slip through. The grooves in the bark were wide enough to swallow me whole. I leaned into a niche and glared at Nimrais "Nice try but I'm not helping you get out of here." I wasn't certain that Nimrais had been goading me into a fight in hopes of breaching the Gate but it was a perfectly plausible possibility and more importantly it let both of us save face, well what was left of his. He snorted and glared at me with his intact eye before letting out a whistling laugh from his perforated throat. _

_When he spoke it sounded like every word cost him "I want out. I saw an opportunity and tried for it. I know of no way for any but the summoner to fight the abomination your half-breed brother has called up. You'll need every scrap of wits and strength you can muster. This isn't the first time someone has let that…. thing in, no one has lasted long against it. Good luck, llanc."_

_There was wistful almost grieving note in that good luck and I wasn't sure what emotion to ascribe to that llanc but it almost sounded paternal? Seriously? He'd tried to devour my __**soul**__ at one point. There was NO doubt he'd known what I was going to be walking into in Avalon but I'd gotten not one word of wisdom or warning. And now? This? Was he manipulating me? Was this all some sort of bizarre notion of Draig parenting? If so no wonder the draigs were gone. Hades how had any of them managed to survive to adulthood? And more importantly how what had happened to the other a Nimrais? Never mind. I'd been away from my body for far too long, even for a necromancer. _

"_Set me free and I will grant you a swift and merciful death" I rolled my eyes that was that supposed to be a temptation? "That abomination will grant you neither."_

"_I'll take my chances" I retorted the Malevolence wouldn't be my first impossible kill and it wouldn't be my last. But the fact this was the first time __Nimrais__ unequivocally thought I couldn't win sent a chill down my spine. _

Jack closed his eyes cursing quietly "Whatever that thing did te ye I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ye might have left some word precisely how I'm te go about getting rid of it" he complained equally softly. I yelped as my arm hair caught fire. I used Jack's sash to smother it as I glared at Nimrais on Risanca's pommel but he had eyes only for Jack who swallowed noisily. "Wish me luck" Jack said trying downplay his fear as he stretched across. Nimrais didn't wait for him to actually grasp the hilt but unwound himself as much as he could & lunged forward sinking teeth and claws into Jack's forefinger. When Jack's eyes went as dead as Mallory's I reached out to wrench Nimrais off him but Henri stopped me "Sand in the glass, sand in the glass."

"That means wait a minute" Gibbs offered as if I couldn't figure that one out on my own.

"He had better come back himself" I snapped at Henri who knew what that Draig might do to him and Henri's expression was anything but encouraging.

Jack snatched his hand back, ashen pale under his tan.

"So?" Commodor Norrington prompted into one of the longest silences I'd ever heard, or not heard as the case, may be from Jack.

Jack visibly started then said in a worryingly flat tone "Apparently even my brother couldn't figure a way to kill the Malevolence. Just before taking up a new enterprise as a structural element in a sand dune he did figure out how to trap one." Mallory stirred eyes darting under lids that couldn't close completely, wasted bits of sinew that passed for muscles tensing under dried leather skin as he muttered a disbelieving "no".

"Hush" Jack swirled a thumb over his temple. Mallory tossed his head in response but didn't fully rouse. "I've got this watch. Ye just rest." That garnered an amused sniff. "I'll call ye if we spot sail but we've fair winds and following seas. Ye just let Sparrow stand the bells. Zander will keep me in line", Mallory's brow furrowed briefly in confusion at that "We've called a truce just for ye, bosom friends we are, savvy? Isn't that a pleasant dream? My watch, mine, please" As Mallory finally relaxed the lines of strain around Jack's eyes and mouth smoothed. He wiped the sweat off his brow "And they call mules stubborn. Mr. Gibbs would ye be so kind as te fetch me medical chest?" Jack asked as he looked at us in a mix of anger, defiance, and sorrow. "Just te be clear, aye me pride and wanting te prove I could get The Pearl back without Mallory's help was part o the reason I ordered him off but it's only part. From day one the crew always questioned why a man o' Mallory's quality n' caliber was doing playing merchant captain. Never paid it much mind until Venice. He damn near glowed. He had a spring in his step I ha'nae seen since he married off Marie. After that I'd catch him the wee hours looking back toward Europe. I'd seen enough homesick hands te know a case when I saw one. Kept dropping hints that I wasn't a wee lad anymore; that I could look out after meself." He drew a deep breath "I realized when I woke up aboard the Peregrine with him putting me back together that he was never going te cut the apron strings on his own so I ordered him off. Biggest surprise o' me life when I woke te find him really gone. Figured he'd finally gotten sick of it all and gone back te minding his own affairs. Whatever happen, whatever it is that thing I unleashed did I always thought ol' Mallory had gone back te something finer than minding Captain Jack Sparrow."

That might have been the longest single speech I'd ever heard of Jack.

"I can't banish the Malevolence while it's in Mallory's trap and Nimrais is o the opinion that it might be useful against our Sire. Thank ye" he told Gibbs as he started riffling through its tiny drawers. "Ah ha just the thing"

"What are you dosing him with?"

"A drop o' white tea because I'm nae going te be able te keep him out much longer and I doubt things will go well if he wakes in the middle o' me shaving his head."

"I very much doubt Capt. Sparrow that your brother will appreciate having his head shaved at any time" Commodore Norrington observed dryly.

"Aye, well that's the only way this is coming out" Jack pointed to the solid mass of what might have started out as tiny braids threaded through sea shells but was now a single snarl of hair encrusted by salt and sand "And it needs te, before he wakes, it just… needs te."

"We should at least attempt to untangle it before we indulge in such drastic measures" Commodore Norrington replied.

Jack sighed in disappointment "I was looking forward te tattooing his head."

"Indeed?" Commodore Norrington intoned.

"He could use a bit o' ink" Jack defended.

"I doubt he would agree – Mr. Gibbs, Elizabeth have you any idea where I might procure some hairpins?"

Jack gave him a dubious look but gestured for Elizabeth to resume reading. She leafed through several pages before settling on one with a smile.

_A blacksmith, the boy would want to be a blacksmith __**AND**__ actually have a gift in that direction. Young Mr. Turner had both the gift and the raw skill to be an amazing swordsmith. Odd that, gifts usually flowed in a straight line but Bill and the Whelp had definitely made sharp right turn from the rest of the Blakes. I looked over the shelves, running my hand down the spine of one of Mannwan's treatises and closed my eyes. I'm so damn sorry. Draigs I wanted Mannwan at my side not dead on that thrice benighted island's beach. I wondered what Mannwan would say about me giving some of his finest work to a dynol child. The lecture would likely have lasted for days. _

_It will be exceedingly pleasant to have a keen student for a change. Draigs knew Sparrow had been too slothful to be a good student even when he was interested. I flicked an ear to the east. I had a few months before the next Hunt arrived. Very little time to teach him because if I couldn't find Bill (which should be patently IMPOSSIBLE he was part of the Lighthouse spell. I could find every other descendent of my erstwhile Old Blood servants without even trying. I knew where every other member of Barbossa's nasty little band miscreants was every waking moment. And damn Barbossa's brwnyllys eyes. I had managed to make stepping ashore…uncomfortable and dangerous for him. I might not be able to fool him with Shadow but I could completely confuse his crew. They killed a tithe of what they thought they did and not all that glitters is gold. Barbossa was no smith more than half his swag was worthless. Why was one Sparrow's wishes so determinedly keeping Bill hidden from me? Why had it stopped me from saving the vessel that had brought the boy here? Was this some play of the Malevolence or something more benign?) I shook off the pensive mood and wrest the book free of the brimming shelf and headed back into town._

_Just walking over the threshold was like pushing boulder uphill but the boy's desperate face made it worth_

"While I've no doubt Mrs. Turner that you and your husband would find Mallory's true thoughts on his time with young Mr. Turner fascinating there are undoubtedly other more pertinent entries" he drew a deep breath "and I haven't tried to do this since I was elven, nearly two decades at sea have roughened my hands too much Elizabeth would you be so kind?"

"If ye don't mind me asking" Jack said eyeing the Commodore in confusion "why is it that ye're familiar with untangling matted hair at all?"

He was quiet for a moment "My older sister used to demand I help her get the tangles out so that no one in the household would realize she was riding at night."

Elizabeth frowned in confusion "You never told me you have a sister."

"Had a sister – her horse landed in her lap." He took the journal from Elizabeth as he handed her the hairpins.

_I circled the flame blazing on Medwyn's table one last time before extinguishing it in frustration. After the Malevolence's initial attempt to kill Sparrow it had spent the last few years just watching like an outstandingly hideous gargoyle until a fortnight ago when it had simply vanished. I could still feel its presence slowly poisoning the planet like a foul sludge on the back of my throat. It was still here, somewhere, but its presence hung like a blinding fog rendering it impossible for me to pinpoint its spoor. I knew in my bones that after years of plotting it was finally ready to act. I also knew that in those years it had learned far more about me than I had about it. _

_Medwyn recognized my frustration and did not compound it by offering me empty reassurances or placating platitudes. A rare jewel of a man. He offered me a square meal I had no interest in instead._

"_You'll need all the strength you can muster against that thing" he held up a hand "I know you can manage without – but don't pretend you don't have to pull power from within to do it. Don't give that thing any advantage you don't have to." _

_Even with the finest of ingredients I doubted that Mr. Gibbs' cooking would ever rise above mediocrity and these were NOT the finest of ingredients. I sighed but dutifully dug into it while Medwyn read his latest missive from home aloud. He was looking forward to handing over his command and returning to his wife and children as soon as his replacement arrived. I was happy for him, verily, but I was going to miss the Dominant. Evenings with Medwyn, Zander, and Chris had been delightful whether it was a game of whist, training them in swordplay & sailing, or just playing the cetera as a counterpoint to their diverse and sundry discussions. While I'd sailed before the mast briefly in the past I had always been focused on achieving a particular objective and I'd certainly never willingly mingled with the common folk even when pretending to be one. I'd reserved whatever passed for camaraderie for those closer to my own station in life. While I still wasn't completely comfortable among the hands nor were they without reservations about me (the current favorite theory was I was a lord's bastard son stashed here from a vengeful wife) and I had no delusions about what they would do to me if they even suspected the truth I was enjoying the not quite but close to it acceptance and the fact that I was essentially responsible for nothing. Well no command decisions anyway there was still a nation to save, a brother to watch over from a Grychmyn enforced distance, undead pirates to deceive, and a Malevolence to defeat but honestly things had been fairly quiet of late on all fronts. Only when I'd lost myself as Jonathan Sperling had I had more peace. Hell I was baiting Cavendish just to fend off boredom. So how was I going to kill off Cavendish without upsetting Medwyn? Usually brwnyllys were incredible judges of character but Cavendish had the wool pulled so far over Medwyn's eyes he was in danger of tripping over it. _

_As Medwyn finished up the letter I reached out for the cetera. I had made a few discoveries about the Malevolence, first blessings caused it difficulties at least and what appeared to be actual physical pain at best. They didn't seem to be able to completely stop it but they did slow it down. Wishes had a similar influence though decidedly stronger. Where wishes and blessings met the thing seemed to be stopped cold which was what had saved Sparrow's life when the thing had tried to kill him as its first act in this world. That didn't mean that it couldn't use others as its proxy though, many an individual who would have let Sparrow pass or never would have noticed him now attempted to kill him often for nothing more than the fact that their eye happened to light on him. I'd been doing my best to mitigate the damage but this was a task far more suited to Sparrow's gwelt talents than my own. I'd tried repeatedly to send missives to Sparrow but even Sea had failed me and between Sparrow's wishes and the Malevolence's interference there had been more than a few deaths, enough that I had reluctantly ceased in my attempts for the foreseeable future. 'Spells' as the dynol referred to them required nothing but clear intent and power. Most others required some sort of ritual to achieve that clear intent. I generally didn't but I did find that while blessing or cursing the mental exercise of crafting poetry or song helped significantly. So I played - much to Medwyn's delight. I might not know what the Malevolence was up to but I could still try to ruin its day._

Commodore Norrington flipped a page before continuing.

_What was he thinking? Was this rash overconfidence my fault? Aye I can take the Gallant – but not without exposing myself as something other than a dynol. Damn it all Medwyn I thought better of you! I listened to the beat to quarters with a heavy heart. I'd been a fool to assume that Medwyn wouldn't use me like everyone else who learned the truth & didn't immediately turn on me like a rabid wolf. I sighed. Medwyn was only thinking of his coming retirement and family not of doing me an ill turn. When I'd come aboard the Dominant Medwy had been deep in debt. His share of the prize money he'd made since had gotten him out of debt and to the point that he could live frugally back home but bringing in a ship of the line? That would be more than just a feather in his cap it would allow him both to retire comfortably and give his children opportunities. Yes he should have thought about it and ASKED me, I wouldn't have denied him, while the thoughtlessness stung he wasn't being malicious. So I'd just have to kill off Cavendish a little early, I'd been planning to leave the Dominant anyway a few months after Medwyn. It was annoying that I wouldn't be able to see Chris & Zander safely settled with the new captain as Mallory but Shadow would serve. I squared my shoulders, take the Gallant first & sort out the rest later. _

_Mr. Gibbs fell in behind me as was his usual wont. The first time he'd done it I'd wondered if he meant to slip a poniard between my ribs but I was now fair certain he just figured it was the safest place for a member of the boarding party to be. Even my Draig couldn't seem to whip up any enthusiasm for this particular fight. If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well if were done quickly. I muttered quoting Will & led us over the rail with an ear splitting roar. _

_Killing dynol even en mass had long since ceased to be a challenge but I set to the task with a grim resolve. If I could cow the rest maybe I could keep the butcher's bill to a minimum. Of course keeping prisoners in check with a small crew had its own…what the bloody hell?! I blinked in surprise and was nearly run through as I allowed myself to be distracted by the sight of the Malevolence riding a cannonball. Draigs Medwyn!, __**NO!**__ nonononononononon! I roared my rage and howled my grief. That thing was __**DEAD**__! The draig flared magnesium bright with no thought but to reach the Malevolence who now stood on the far side of the Gallant's remaining crew. Its presence reached for me, smothering me in its fetid glee until I could see and hear and feel nothing but it. There was nothing but the Malevolence I was drowning in it. Chocking on it, hacking blindly at anything in my path…._

_Until the music, faint but clear_

_So here is a plea to you, my friends, let this music linger on,_

_May it find me in the evening winds, or in the summer's dawn_

_To lead me through death, darkness, and storm._

_To guide me ever homeward lest I be lost forevermore,_

_Like a candle in the window bright, like a lighthouse on the shore_

_And a light that cut through the murk & with it came awareness of the world. Sweet Jesus what the hell was I doing?!_

"_Zander?" how had he gotten in front of me? I, I? Following Zander's cue I pivoted to cover Mr. Gibbs who clearly had been planning to knock me unconscious except if he had hit me hard enough to render a dynol senseless he would have smashed my fragile skull to splinters. Why would Mr. Gibbs… Oh, bloody damn. I was a killer but I wasn't this. I wasn't ever this. Quick, neat, clean and above all precise – controlled. Always always controlled, sloppy gets you killed. Minimum damage maximum effect. Not blind slaughterer not ever, ever, ever that. Or not ever again. Rathlin, I'd lost myself at Rathlin and… I dropped both blades to the deck covering my face. Stupid that sloppy too. Not being able to see wasn't going to fix anything but I couldn't stop shaking as I swayed, fire & ice running by turns through my veins as my mind spun like a top. Here and there, now and then run together in blood I'd never initially intended to shed except I had. I couldn't stop seeing them nevermind that I hadn't actually seen them when I'd done the deed itself couldn't stop hearing the mothers begging on Rathlin when. No!No!No!. Rathlin wasn't now Rathlin wasn't here. This wasn't Rathlin. The world was too bright yet muffled and everything was wrong. I could hear Medwyn plain as if he was standing before me instead of sprawled on the deck missing most of his head "Don't give that thing any advantage you don't have to" and here I was doing exactly that. Never let them see you bleed. I ran I hand over the yuck – I'd gone entire battles without getting this much gore on me. Eww. Before answering Zand…Lt. Norrington. The Malevolence crept close enough to whisper in my ear leaving me reeling from the poison it exuded "Medwyn was only the beginning. Just first blood. You may have won the second point but I'll have you kill this one by your own hand yet. I'm going to have a delightful time bleeding you dry without ever touching you." I liked the thing better when it didn't speak. I was the Prince of Avalon. I straightened shoulders back head high – I would NOT be cowed by this thing. I would NOT let it drive me mad, not ever again. It was hardly my first swaggering bully. It grinned, winked, and vanished. I truly fully focused on Lt. Norrington for the first time. How far would I have gone if the old Lighthouse spell still anchored in his blood hadn't broken through whatever it was that thing had thrown at me? I owed Zander a greater debt than I was likely ever going to be able to repay for his courage today. Oh Sparrow please, please, call for me before that thing kills someone else…or uses me to do it._

As Norrington skipped ahead Elizabeth threw down the pins and scissors in exasperation. "James this isn't working. We're going to have to cut it off and let him borrow your spare wig."

Anna-Maria slapped the scissors out of Jack's hands "Ye let me have a go of it first."

'_You're heavy' Sea complained when I stirred. I wanted to sleep for a year but I slithered free of the chain and cannonballs I assumed Bledri had used to weight me before sending me over the side. Decent of him not to return the lead lined coffin 'favor' I'd done him but then there hadn't been one available on the Dominant. I had a notion I should check with Wind to find out what Sparrow was entangled in but sleep beckoned so fetchingly. Something growled and my first sight was of the Malevolence glaring at me. From its mien clearly I'd 'won' this point as well. I didn't feel like I'd won a damn thing. It might just be a body but the last few days had really, truly, and profoundly HURT and while I'd absolutely known the crew would savage me it didn't mean that having men I'd had to keep reminding myself weren't true friends pound me to what they thought was death didn't wound. Sparrow's Draig had wanted me to hurt. I did. If this was winning… _

'_Find me a place that thing can't follow' I whispered to Sea before sliding back down into the dark of unconsciousness. _

_There was sand in my ear. There was sand in my ear I could feel someone looking at me. Someone who wasn't the Malevolence which was good but I wasn't exactly in the most advantageous of positions to defend myself. I opened one eye a sliver and found myself nose to nose with a mestizo girl of about six with eyes the color of the sky just before a storm hit and an enaid that rivaled Argellion's in the depth of its green. Reds might be the delight and bane of my existence but I'd yet to meet a green I didn't like even if most of them bored me if I tarried overlong. _

"_Breimi!"_

_She didn't even glance up even though it was clearly her name and from the look of things her mother was bearing down on us. Interesting, very interesting the words were mostly Yanum with a dash of Carib but the grammar had a decidedly Arawak source and was that a welsh word? The language was more of a mutt than English. The girl wasn't just mestizo she had a dash of Old Blood – very, very far back. No discernible Gift but she was young enough it might still develop. I doubted it though not enough of the Blood left. Definitely Annefnyddiol roots not Bonhedigg which was odd because more than half of the Bonhedigg were Bristol born or at least had family there. Annefynddiol sailors were fairly rare. I pulled myself to my feet before her mother arrived to snatch her away but the girl wiggled away and to my surprise wrapped her arms around my waist. Did she just say I'd been attacked by a soul eater & needed to be taken to the shaman? Clearly she had some sort of Sight – so much for no noticeable Gift. The mother eyed me warily but her stance softened considerably. I despised pity. I forced myself straight. I was the Crown Prince of Avalon – I needed no one's pity. The mother's retort had me whirling to the east. I nearly went down as the world spun several more turns than I'd actually made. Well that was more than enough reason for any mother to panic. 105 knot winds, storm surge of at least 3 fathoms, and wide enough to swallow this island a score of times over it was rapidly bearing down on this little spec of land and being ridden by an absolutely furious Malevolence. Clearly it was less than best pleased that I'd found a way to ruin the family reunion it had planned for my Sire, my brother, and I. I drew several deep breaths gathering up the scraps of strength I'd gotten back since the aberath. There was no dispersing the storm at this point. So I would turn it aside as much as possible and then hold the whirling winds at bay. Draigs it was a leviathan but it turned, far too slowly though. I created a current to sling the thing around, back out toward open water, and then to starve it. I pulled shearing winds down from the north to knock it down from above. Then I started to build a dome over the island only to be staggered by contact with another power. Something old, tremendously ancient and like nothing I'd ever encountered before. After the first brush it completely ignored me so I returned the favor since I hardly had the time or vigor to do otherwise. I choked back a scream as the Winds from the outer bands bore down on me in a frenzy so fierce that for every one I calmed a thousand more came but I stood. Whoever the people were that lived here they had nothing to do with the Malevolence and I would NOT let them pay the price. I dug in against the juggernaut. How had the thing diverted it here? Like the cannonball it had made the storm a weapon but it hadn't created it to begin with. Focus, focus just me versus a million raging Winds. There was no more time for thinking. _

_How did I end up in a hammock? And why was a small someone sitting on me? I gagged, sputtering as Breimi tried to pour some sort of broth down my throat. I blinked at her as she said something that sounded like I should eat more. I was fluent in all of the coastal languages but most of the words were from the interior. I knew enough to follow the gist but not necessarily the full meaning. I took the bowl of broth away from her in self defense. She put her hands on her hips and glared at me so I took a drink. Pretty good actually. I drained it dry to her delight. She kissed me on the forehead before skipping off. That girl was going to be a heart-breaker in a few years. _

_Given that her mother had not a drop of Old Blood in her veins I assumed the man not meeting my eyes was her father, from his paint the shaman, and in possession of a surprisingly strong healing talent. Certainly one strong enough to perceive something recent events and my history. Couple that with his daughter's Sight and I was effectively far more naked than they were. Uncomfortable with the entire situation (though if they'd had a problem with my pointy ears they had had ample time to act upon it) I sat up in the hammock. He set a wooden tray and cup before me with a reverent bow. _

"_Mallory" I said._

"_Ihirothawe" he insisted instead. Wasn't that some sort of weather deity? "The Shamatari" he waved at the shabobo "here you are welcome." He kept his eyes on the floor I couldn't understand half of what he said but I knew shame when I saw it in an enaid. _

_I made my best guess at asking his name and received Turaewe as a response. "Why guilt?"_

_More words I couldn't follow. He frowned and said in slow wretchedly accented broken Welsh "Healer. You I not help. Hurt, much hurt past body."_

_I caught his hand before he could actually lay it on me, more touched than I cared to admit. I was Shadowless, ears, eyes, and blue hair laid bare and all he cared about was that my enaid was broken and he couldn't help and it upset him, deeply. _

"_Not your fault, no one can fix this."_

_He sighed & nodded "Mighty warrior, eat, rest, war under another sun."_

_Rest sounded wonderful even if every instinct I had was screaming at me not to trust them. That this kind of acceptance was far too good to be true._

"_What is under the reef?" _

"_That Which Watches."_

_Interesting name but not exactly informative. As far as I could tell it either wasn't intelligent or it had dismissed me – did I want its attention? What might I risk by forcing the issue? I couldn't stay here without knowing more. I swung a leg over the hammock and…_

_Well this was deja-vu to my chagrin I was fairly certain Turaewe had scooped me up after I collapsed and tucked me back into the hammock. Breimi was snuggled up on me all lanky limbs with her head pillowed just under my chin. Her mother looked highly amused which was an immense improvement over the beach when she'd looked like an angry bear, even I didn't get between a mother and her cub. Speaking of cub – the babe in her womb was positioned all wrong for delivery and she was within a fortnight of term. I lifted a hand only to realize it was covered in green & white paint. I suspected if I hadn't roused my belt buckle so there would be no repeat of my being disarmed (& I still couldn't believe I been so wretchedly sloppy as to let Mr. Gibbs do so on the Dauntless) that I'd likely have woken up nothing but paint. I reminded myself that there's a difference between compassion and pity. And that there was no reason for me to ever come back here again Turaewe was a Healer he could deal with his wife's issue. Peregrine had arrived while I was unconscious I could sail on the next tide. With all of that Blood in the water even once Avalon figured out I wasn't dead no Wild Hunt would be able to track me for several years. Sparrow's Gorymyn wouldn't let me help him and troth __**I**__ couldn't even hear him over my own Blood. Oh Draigs the only way I was going to able to find Sparrow for at least a year if not two was with Wind – and even in denial Sparrow was better with Wind than I was and he was wishing me away. So outside of northern Europe any port was open to me – except that would leave no one to watch over Barbossa & his crew of miscreants but then who said they had to be awake for Sparrow to chase them? _

_It was very contrite Winds that came to bear my 'lullaby' to the Pearl. Sparrow's wishes were driving all toward young Mr. Turner and his lass in Port Royal – let them sleep until Sparrow's opportune moment. A little Shadow and a little mystery would keep the legend alive. So what to do with myself? Clearly I couldn't linger here I was born to privilege and its obligations even if I wasn't sure how to fulfill them right now. I glanced up as Breimi's pregnant mother brushed a hand lightly over her daughter's head. I fought not to flinch when she laid a gentle hand on my cheek._

"_You here welcome stay."_

_I hoped that my reply conveyed my appreciation without committing since I never planned to return. Breimi blinked at me before asking me to have breakfast with her. It was a few hours until the high tide and it would be terribly rude to refuse. I could bring a few things up from 'Grin before going, share and share alike as it were. _

_This time 'Grin didn't bother chiding me. He'd known my reasons and while he didn't like my solution he hadn't been able to think of a better one given that he knew better than to ask me to leave Sparrow to our Sire's non-existent mercy._

"_All things considered you look better than I expected."_

"_I suspect Turaewe has something to do with that." I checked the larder. Since I hadn't been sailing on Peregrine of late it was a bit bare but my vermin banes kept things fresh far longer than any dynol methods and I'd restocked at every port call just in case I needed to make a sudden departure from the royal navy. I debated a moment over if I should use a rucksack or a basket. I settled on basket. _

"_Any port in particular you want to visit when we leave tonight?"_

"_Why leave tonight? Why not stay a while?" _

_I paused waiting for him to continue "The Watcher won't let anything in from below, with your skill with Wind and Sea you can keep the Malevolence out from above and no dynol sailor is ever going to navigate the reefs. We could use a safe port and they don't care about your rank or your pointing ears."_

"_You know about the Watcher?"_

"_I had to talk my way in. Sort of. It's a very alien mind but I'm certain that it means neither of us harm and that it hates the Malevolence."_

_I threaded a back strap through the basket, considering. "We leave on the tide. It IS an alien mind – it might do anything."_

"_What about the woman & her unborn – if you leave and she dies in childbirth you're going to mope for months."_

"_Turaewe is a Healer."_

"_But how good is he? And how much could you teach him?"_

"_Why do you want us to stay so badly? I thought you liked it best when it was just you, me, Wind, and Sea."_

"_I do but you don't" he retorted softly "at least not anymore. Not since you came back from Avalon. I don't understand why you NEED to be around people but you do. And these people have seen you for what you are and welcomed you. I know that's rare and I think you should give this a chance."_

_Except they hadn't seen me for what I was. They'd seen my pointy ears, Draig's eyes, and ability to turn a storm but they hadn't seen me. Not really. I glanced in the mirror. Bledri had a point back on the Dominant. I played roles – did I even know who I was when I wasn't 'The Prince of Avalon' or 'Captain fill in the blank'? And if I stayed would they still welcome me back when they truly knew what was behind all the masks? I swallowed a little frightened of the very idea. _

"_Give it until she's safely delivered. The worst they can do is exile you."_

"_Or you might be wrong about the Watcher."_

"_Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"_

_No, no he hadn't. When in Rome do as the Romans. I striped to the skin, slipped the strap over my shoulder, and headed for shore._

_._

7


End file.
